


Autonomy

by rankwriter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Suicide, Depression, F/M, Infidelity, Knotting, M/M, Mating, Mating Bites, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Omega Dean Winchester, Pack Dynamics, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape, Rape Culture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Suicidal Thoughts, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:35:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 23
Words: 54,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24392152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rankwriter/pseuds/rankwriter
Summary: Dean is an alpha and next in line to lead the Winchester pack until a vile act changes everything. Dean ends up mated to Castiel a quiet but kind alpha from the Novak pack. As Dean struggles to deal with the enforced changes in his life, he starts to appreciate the struggles of omegas everywhere. As his relationship with Cas changes for the better the Novak pack throws a spanner in the works in the form of Amara who becomes Cas’ beta-mate. Dean and Cas struggle to maintain and nourish their fledgling bond in spite of interference from outside forces. Cas slips but it is Dean that falls. Can they make their way back to each other and will good win over evil?
Relationships: Amara/Castiel (Supernatural), Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 65
Kudos: 131
Collections: Destiel Omegaverse Big Bang





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the mods for organizing this challenge.
> 
> Special thanks to NCDover for their exceptional art, please go take a look and enjoy, then give them some love and adoration!
> 
> [Awesome Art](https://ncdover1285.tumblr.com/post/619420107532304384/art-for-autonomy-by-rankwriter-for)
> 
> Thanks equally to Elephino-forthehalibut and Soloarcana for their beta work, without them, this wouldn't be readable. Please note I have fiddled since they beta'd it so any mistakes are mine alone!

The man’s eyes are blue. 

Dean had once owned a pair of jeans that were the exact same color, and he wonders where those jeans are now. He wonders whether they’re lurking in the depths of his wardrobe, back in his apartment. It doesn’t really matter where those jeans are now, because wherever they are, they don’t belong to Dean anymore, they belong to his alpha. Everything Dean owns belongs to him, even Dean himself.

The man with the pretty eyes is looking at Dean with something like concern in his eyes. Dean just closes his own eyes and floats away on memories of pretty denim irises.

Pain is an insidious thing; it creeps about your body moving from its epicenter, sometimes lurching, sometimes tiptoeing, but always in motion. Everything hurts, from the tips of Dean’s fingers to the follicles of his hair, to his toes. The worst ache's deep within his core. His heart is decimated, and he knows that he can never recover from this treachery. Years could pass, eons even, and he would still feel this bone aching emptiness. The throbbing in his abused ass both takes his mind off - and by the same token reminds Dean - of their betrayal. Fifteen years of friendship broken and discarded as easily as Dean’s alphahood. He will never forgive or forget. The crime is too large, the fallout life-changing; life-ruining in fact.

Dean has existed on adrenaline only. Fighting and running is exhausting, and now that he has stopped, he doesn’t know how he can possibly deal with this. His legs are jelly, shaking in an irregular rhythm. He tries to shift his weight in the bed, but the persistent ache in his butt sends shooting agony outward through his body and curtails his movement. Dean attempts to stifle a groan, unsuccessfully apparently, as the man watching him twitches as though to reach out a hand to touch. Thankfully, he doesn’t.

“How are you feeling?” he asks. He looks familiar, but Dean’s brain isn’t firing on all cylinders. He smells really good, like a walk in the autumn woods: the rich, earthy scent of fallen leaves and the sweet smokiness of bonfires, all tempered by the clean scent of flowing water. Underneath it all is a light, syrupy sweetness that lingers on the tongue the way fresh honey does. Dean doesn’t know how to answer his question, so he just shrugs. Even that small motion is enough to set off an explosive chain reaction of deep-seated aches and pains. The physical pain is good, it stops Dean’s mind from walking down paths he's not ready to explore yet. He doesn’t want to think about it. he isn’t ready, hell he’s pretty sure he won’t ever be ready to face what has happened to him over the last twenty-four hours.

“Hmmm,” he says, and Dean isn’t sure whether he's agreeing or not. He's unable to keep his scent from changing as his underlying anxiety creeps to the surface. Dean can smell a change in the watcher's scent, too. It becomes bitter with anger and a slight, lesser scent of concern. Dean feels the blood rush to his face; he isn’t some scared kid for goodness sake, or a victim. The man with the pretty eyes has no need to feel concern for him. He’s not a casualty damn it. That’s just the thing, though, isn’t it? Dean is a victim, and it takes a moment for him to realize that the dampness on his face is tears.

The hospital is overly warm and impersonal. The lights are bright and yellow, they flicker and make Dean’s head throb. There’s an incessant beeping and the nurses and doctors that pop into his room look pale and harassed. Dean’s bed is both hard and lumpy and he can find no comfort in this place of anonymity and pain.

Fuck this. Dean has always been one to face his problems head-on. “Look, I assume we both know how I ended up here…” Dean says brokenly, as if that answers all the unasked questions. He doesn’t know whether he’s ever felt this tired, and where the fuck have his dad and Sammy gone? Why have they left him with this man?

Blue Eyes sighs and takes Dean’s hand. “You’ve had a hard time,” he says, and Dean just wants to laugh at the inadequacy of that statement. He manages, barely, to hold his tongue. Everything has changed. He needs to learn to either be compliant, or at least appear to be. He can start by curtailing his smart mouth.

Dean fights the urge to yank his hand back as the other man’s skin scalds his own where he rubs small circles on Dean’s palm. It feels disturbingly comforting, and against his better judgment, he relaxes and the world goes a little fuzzy before it all turns black.

His world is grey, grey, and foggy, but that is better than the acute agony of yesterday. Dean drifts on a haze of aches and humiliation. He still can’t believe they bested him. He’s a good fighter, being second in the pack meant he had to be prepared for anything. As it transpired, he hadn’t been. No. Dean isn’t going to think about that now.

He feels someone grab his hand. From their scent he thinks it might be Sammy. Whatever drugs they’re pumping into him are messing with his senses, but at least they are blurring the horror of a few hours ago.

“Those fuckers.” Dad. “I can’t believe they would do this to Dean, he’s never been anything but a good friend to them.”

“It was a fucking political move, they want Dean out of the equation, without the consequences that would come from straight out killing him” Sam spits out. Dean tries to open his eyes, but they might as well be welded shut. “Fuck, what the fuck do we do now? We need to move fast.” Dean has never heard Sam sound so distraught. He’s the clear-headed one of the family, John is quick to anger, and Dean’s the peace-maker, always able to defuse difficult situations. 

Until last night, anyway.

A hand rasps across a stubbled chin. “We need to get him mated, today if possible. I don’t want one of those fuckers coming back and claiming him. It’d fucking kill him,” he hears his dad say. 

He’s not wrong. I’d rather be dead than mated to one of the assholes that did this. 

Dean forces his eyes open. The room is fuzzy, like looking through a Vaseline smeared lens. 

“Dad,” he croaks, his stomach flip-flopping. “What…” Dad and Sam turn so quickly it makes Dean dizzy. The guilt on their faces makes his stomach swoop, this doesn’t bode well. He knows he’s fucked. Literally, his drugged brain not-helpfully provides. Nope, not going there right now. Preferably never again. Dean’s not stupid. He knows he’s been raped, but the drugs he’s full of are keeping the details wonderfully obscured. As far as he’s concerned, that’s a good thing. 

“Son,” Dad starts. He’s antsy, and can’t meet Dean’s gaze. “Fuck. Look, those boys could come back and claim you.” Dean’s heart rate ratchets up and the monitor to his right shrieks in alarm. His dad grasps his hand and Dean latches onto it like it’s the only solid, real thing in his life. “I’m not going to let that happen, but there are only so many ways to avoid it.” Dean knows it’s true, but hearing his dad state it so plainly makes it real. The door opens and a nurse appears, tutting at Dean’s heart-rate.

“You need to calm down lovey,” she says, smiling at Dean. Her round face is plain, unadorned, and lovely without makeup. “Breathe in through your nose and let it out slowly through your mouth.” She casts an eye at the monitor and nods. “That’s better dear. I’d rather not give you another shot. Can I trust you boys to keep him calm?” she asks Sam and John. Dean wants to smile at the incongruity of his dad being called a boy, but his face won’t comply.

“What are our options?” Dean asks as sweat prickles at the nape of his neck.

“Well, really, we can only come up with one.” His dad rubs his neck and sits down next to the bed. “We’re looking for a mate for you.”

Dean isn’t stupid. He’s Dad’s second because he’s politically savvy, clever, and tenacious, and his knowledge of pack law is second only to Sam’s. He knows his dad is right, but that doesn’t mean he’s happy about it.

“Who?” His dad casts a glance his way, something indefinable in his eyes, He had expected Dean to argue, look for other ways, but Dean knows there aren’t any. There is no fucking way he will end up mated to Lucifer or Balthazar. I’ll kill myself, first. Dean has never been a quitter, which means they have to find another way. 

His dad sighs. “Castiel Novak.” 

Wait, what? ”No fucking way.” Dean spits. He feels his stomach roll unpleasantly, this can’t be happening.

“What the hell happened with you two,” Sam asks, sitting next to his dad and taking Dean’s other hand. Dean shakes him off.

“What the hell, Sam? I’m not some damsel in distress! His fucking brother and cousin just raped me, have you forgotten that?” Sam winced.

“But Dean, you’ve been funny about him for a long time. He’s a nice guy and he’s second in the Novak pack.” Fucking pack politics! Do they expect me to be the little wife, become the power behind the throne or something? It’s laughable, any power Dean might have now would be given to him grudgingly. They could hope for some sort of political advantage, but Dean knows that isn’t going to happen.

“Did you ever consider that I wouldn’t want to be in a pack with my rapist,” Dean says. He knows he’s deflecting, but so does Sam. That fucker always knows.

“Dean?”

“Crap, alright Sammy. He got a bit frisky on a night out once.” Dean sighs and rubs between his eyes. “He was all over me and I didn’t think he’d take no for an answer. He was drunk as fuck but still… I could have taken him out but it was just uncomfortable.” Dean thought back to that night. He had seen Castiel around at pack meetings and occasionally when out socially, but he had bumped into Cas and a group of his friends when Dean had been at college. Cas had been wasted and it had been hilarious. He was always so straight-laced and articulate, always wore that weird trench coat. Dean had enjoyed seeing him loose and garrulous. His blue eyes had twinkled with mischief, and then he had kissed Dean. Panicked, Dean had let the kiss happen. Cas’ lips were dry but soft and Dean’s breath caught in his lungs. Then Cas slipped his arms around him and Dean had freaked. He didn’t like being restrained. He tried to extract himself from Cas’ grasp, but the older man had misinterpreted Dean’s panic for ardor and had clasped him tighter until Dean’s terror became obvious when he collapsed, fighting for breath. It wasn’t a pleasant memory. The only good thing had been Cas’ horror at his own behavior, and he hadn’t been able to apologize enough.

“Is there anyone else? Anyone at all?” Even as he says it, Dean remembers the blue-eyed man, how he’d looked familiar to Dean’s drug-addled brain. Son of a bitch. They had it all organized. But Dean has to know.

“You planned this? You’d already decided! You let him into my hospital room!” Dean feels a sinking in his stomach. “He knows everything. Fuck.”

His dad grimaces, and that’s all Dean needs to know.

“Fuck you guys.” He doesn’t even have the energy anymore to be angry, he's just exhausted. “He’s gonna get what he wants now.”

Silence falls. They all know that for a legal mating, Dean will have to be knotted. There's no way around it. If it’s not soon, Lucifer or Balthazar could come and claim Dean and that just isn’t an option. 

“Call him. Set it up,” Dean says with finality. “It’s a good move politically, the Novaks will be good allies to have, except for Lu…” his voice trails off and he sits back on the bed. Memories bombard him. 

Drinking with men he thought were his friends. The heaviness of his limbs that kept him from moving, although his mind was still sharp and aware. They took turns pounding into him, knotting him, laughing as they violated him. His pain receptors were still working just fine, fuck you very much. Alphas aren’t built to accept knots as easily as their omega counterparts, and definitely not without copious amounts of lube. Not that these assholes cared about his comfort. Then, the final insult: as he lay there bleeding sluggishly from his ass, they both pissed on him, as if they were laying claim to him. 

Last night’s memories blur and marry with memories from a long, long time ago, that he had honestly thought forgotten. The stench of a locker room that was only cleaned once per week, the metal clanging of lockers, the acrid scent of teenage boys, gagging on a sweaty gym sock as his coach tried to force eleven-year-old Dean to fellate him. Even as a boy, Dean was exceptionally pretty. He’d heard the phrase “cock-sucking lips” for years before he even knew what it meant. When he’d presented alpha, he’d been sure that meant he was safe from the predatory leers and crude remarks hurled his way. All it meant was that they were no longer made to his face. A maelstrom of agony sweeps into Dean, centering somewhere around his heart, squeezing and pummeling, forcing him to remember things he’d kept long hidden.

Is this all I’m good for? Someone else’s sexual pleasure?

“Lucifer’s been excommunicated,.” Sam says quietly, “They kicked him out last month. He’s dangerous, Dean, and the Novak’s aren’t stupid.” 

He doesn’t hear Sam. He’s too far into his own head to even realize that he’s still in the room. His heart beats erratically, galloping in his chest. As far as Dean is concerned, his life is over. His previous existence no longer applies. His tidy apartment? Gone. The job he loved? Done. Dancing? Not likely. Any omega out dancing is “asking for trouble” when they’re cornered by knotheads. Driving Baby for no reason other than just to feel the wind in his hair? Not alone. Omegas, the smart ones at least, don’t go out alone. Reading? Would Castiel allow him books? Would he have to give up his cat, Luna? His life wasn’t his anymore. He knows that the Novaks tend more towards the older, more traditional views of alpha/omega roles than the Winchesters do. After the mating, he will belong to Castiel. Castiel could choose to coddle or abuse him, maybe even collar him, and there would be nothing that Dean could do about it. Nothing his family could do, short of an all-out war against the Novak pack. The bloodshed would be massive on both sides. He’s never seen any collars, or signs of abuse in the Novak Omegas, but he’s honest enough to admit he’s never really looked, either. It’s not something that an alpha pays attention to. Omegas are trained to be subservient, quiet, unobtrusive. It’s possible that he just hadn’t noticed. xXx

“I saw him once,” Cas says, “ Dancing at that club you dragged me to, The Bunker? He was stunning. He just danced,” Cas smiles, his eyes unfocused. “There was no intent behind it. He wasn’t trying to seduce or impress anyone. Every time anyone approached him, he would just smile and wave them away, then close his eyes and continue to move with the music. It was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.” Cas rubs his forehead and sighs, “Will he ever be that carefree again? Will he ever be that man again?”

“He always was a strange one,” Gabriel replies. “Always the pretty boy, but he never took advantage of it.” Gabriel’s brow wrinkles, “In fact, I don’t remember him ever having a girlfriend. Or boyfriend, for that matter. That’s pretty strange.”

“Maybe he keeps his relationships private..” Cas says shrugging, but Gabe had planted a seed of doubt, and that seed was sprouting shoots and branches at an alarming rate.  
Dean over the years, often in groups of pretty young people, but never with a special someone. Odd. That time Cas had gotten a bit handsy, well, a lot handsy, if he was honest with himself, at Gabe’s birthday night out, Dean had fought him off. 

Looking back, Cas thinks he’d seen genuine fear in Dean’s eyes. “Hell,” he sighs, “I don’t believe that this is the first time Dean has been assaulted.”

“Maybe he’s asexual,” Gabe offers. “Just ‘cause you and I think with our dicks…”

“Don’t lump me in with your thoughtlessness,” except for that one time Cas reminds himself. Hell, he deserves to be punished for his behavior that night.

Suddenly, the enormity of the task in front of him sinks in, and he’s very glad that he’s already sitting down. The universe, in its infinite wisdom, has sent him his own perfect punishment. 

“Oh gods, I’m going to have to mate him!” Gabe tilts his head in his direction. “I fail to see the problem, bro.” Of course, Gabe wouldn’t see anything wrong with this situation. His longest relationship to date has been with his favored brand of lollipop. 

“You don’t get it, Gabriel! I actually like him! As a person! I have to have sex with him, after he was just raped, with no time at all to cope, process or heal, and he’s going to hate me.” Cas blabs in a rush, feeling slightly lightheaded.

“Hyperventilating isn’t going to help anyone,” Gabe says and claps his brother on the shoulder. “Look, this sucks, there’s no two ways about it, but he needs you. He's not going to appreciate it now, but he needs you and you’re just gonna have to put on your big boy panties and be a man about it!”

Cas knows it’s true. If he doesn’t stand up for Dean, if he doesn’t mate him, then Lucifer or Balthazar will, and then Dean’s life won’t be worth living. The pair of them are a walking, talking advertisement for omega subjugation and Cas will fucking kill himself before he sees Dean collared and on his knees for those bastards.

“Of course, I’ll do it. He’s going to hate me, but I can’t think of any other way. Fuck! He’s going to think I’m doing it just so I can fuck him.” Cas closes his eyes and feels Gabriel squeeze his shoulder. If only he hadn’t gotten drunk that time and borderline assaulted Dean, then this wouldn’t be as terrible. Now Dean is going to get the wrong idea. Damn, Cas hates it when he’s the instrument of his own downfall. He rubs his temples, trying to quell the migraine he can feel creeping upon him. “Call the minister and get the pack here.”

“I love it when you get all pack leadery.” Gabe says as he drags his phone out.

“I’m not the pack leader,” Cas grumbles. He will be soon - his father’s health is failing and Cas has been taking on more and more responsibility. His brother Michael is older, but their father chose Cas. Michael is wily and will make a good second, but there’s a darkness about him. His father sees it too. Michael doesn’t play by the rules, and Cas needs to keep an eye on him. Pack politics are complex, and he doesn’t need Michael muddying the waters by making dodgy deals in the background, although he suspects that is exactly what his older brother is doing.

xXx


	2. Chapter 2

In the history of awkward moments, the official mating is probably the most excruciating. The car that brings Dean, his dad, and Sam to the Novak compound is big, black, and shiny. Luxury on wheels, their scents mingle with the lingering new car smell. His dad has always smelled of musk and aged whiskey, although John hasn’t taken a drink for more than fifteen years. Sammy’s is similar but a bit woodier, more like the whiskey barrel than the spirit itself. like an autumn walk in the woods. Dean’s scent has always been lighter., Even as an alpha his scent had been summer picnics in grassy meadows, sweetgrass overladen by berries. Now it has changed to something honeyed and delicate. Dean coughs into his hand; his new aroma is making him feel physically sick.

The car pulls up to a large metal gate and waits as the cameras register who they are, before the gates slide open and Dean gets his first look at the compound. A sweeping gravel drive curves around to a sizable house, which stands sentry over a garrison of smaller buildings. Their car pulls up to the house and the driver jumps out to open the door for them.

The Winchesters get out of the car, all three of them dressed in black suits as if they are attending a funeral, which Dean thinks is fitting. He takes off his Ray-Bans and squints. The sun is just peeking its head over the horizon, giving one last flare of sunlight before setting. Dean feels his heart skitter in his chest and has never been more thankful for Sam’s imposing presence. Most people find his brother’s size intimidating, but in his newly vulnerable state, Dean finds it comforting.  
There’s a blur of introductions, and hand-on-heart, Dean wouldn’t be able to pick any of them out of a crowd. Far sooner than he would like, Dean is standing in front of a minister, next to Castiel. The alpha’s blue eyes bore into Dean like he’s a puzzle it’s his life’s work to solve. Castiel’s autumn scent is comforting, although the fact that he even needs comforting makes Dean feel murderous. He fights to keep tight hold of that anger and allow it to ground him, even as the alpha’s pheromones begin to soothe him from within. Fucker. Thank god the doctor had given him some hardcore sedatives. In spite of them, Dean’s heart is beating an erratic tattoo.

Novak's minister, Frederick, is a pompous asshole that Dean hates with a vengeance. “Do you take this omega to cherish and protect ‘til death do you part?”

At least he hadn’t added the “and discipline,” part. As much as Dean disagrees with that, he really isn’t in a position to object...

“I do,” Castiel agrees. He tilts his head in an oddly endearing way and takes Dean’s hand and flashes him a small, almost shy, smile. He can’t hide his scent and the overwhelming scent of content alpha hits Dean like a sledgehammer. He wants nothing more than to snatch his hand back, get the hell out of this weird hell, and go home. Maybe cuddle his cat and have a good cry, and Dean Winchester never bloody cries.

Then, before Dean’s mind can lead him further down the rabbit hole, Frederick turns to him.

“And you…” he sneers. “Do you promise to love and cherish, honor and obey…” and what the everloving fuck? Dean does not want to promise that. His eyes dart to Castiel’s and he can see the discomfort there, and scent it in the sharp vinegar tainting his aroma, but Castiel doesn’t object to the words so Dean just nods. It doesn’t matter in the long run, he’s an omega now, and he has to obey.

He gets a hug from his dad and one from Sammy. Dean revels in the warm aroma of his alpha dad and brother. He wishes he could go home and live out his life as a spinster omega, but that can’t happen now. Dean’s heart rate is surging higher the longer the congratulations go on. Smiling pack members, most of whom Dean has never seen before, are smiling and patting Castiel on the back. Some of them cast lascivious looks at Dean, making him feel cold and nauseous. One woman, beautiful and aloof, holds Dean’s hand a moment too long. Her eyes on him are cold, but warm once they turn to Cas. There’s a story there, but Dean really doesn’t care. Cas smiles and shakes her hand, no friendlier with her than he's with anyone else, so Dean dismisses it and lets his mate lead him around and introduce him as he sees fit. The Novak pack is more traditional than the Winchesters, and this is evident in how the pack omegas are most definitely seen and not heard. Dean can see them on the periphery of the room, dressed modestly, eyes lowered, quietly accompanying their alpha’s. Dean can see that some of them are with an alpha and beta pair. The Winchesters don’t hold truck with that sort of thing, but Dean knows other packs allow mated pairs to take on an omega purely for breeding purposes. It must be no life, Dean thinks, looking at one particularly small, heavily pregnant omega female. Dean can’t help but notice the bruised cheekbone or the wrist in plaster. The omega catches his eye and smiles wanly. Dean feels a surge in his stomach and swallows harshly, trying to hold back the urge to vomit. This could be my life now. Would mind if Castiel took another mate? At least that should keep him away from my bed. Of course, that thought immediately reminds him of what’s going to happen later that night. He knows what’s coming and all he wants to do is run, but he knows he can’t. He’s going to have to man up and go through with this. I deserve this. I deserve it because I’m weak, it was entirely my own fault. Stupid, stupid, trusting idiot, I should have known better. He starts breathing rapidly and his vision darkens, then he feels a warm hand on his shoulder and a soft breath in his ear.

“Shhh,” which is weird since Dean doesn’t think he was saying anything. but then he hears a strange keening, like a wounded animal. Horrified, he realizes it’s him. Dean scrunches his eyes closed and concentrates on his breathing, willing it to slow. Strangely, the warm hand on his shoulder and the soft touch of a cheek near his helps. When he’s able to open his eyes, he sees that the once-crowded room has been replaced by a small, well-appointed bedroom. How the fuck did I get here? Castiel’s cheek is so close to his that he can feel the scratch of stubble against his cheek. That, and his hand on Dean’s shoulder, are the only points of contact between their bodies. It feels intimate, far more intimate than the acts of violence that have brought them to this juncture.

Dean breathes in the scent of his husband and thinks that they could be separated for fifty years, a hundred, and he would still be able to pick out this soft, earthy aroma. Feeling preternaturally calmer than he had been moments ago, Dean says, “Look, let’s just get this over with.” He needs to do this before he chickens out. He unbuttons his slacks and watches as Castiel flushes. He won’t think about this, he’ll just do it. There’s no need to let his brain get involved in the act, no need at all. That way lies madness. Dean pulls his pants and boxers down in one fell swoop, dragging his socks and shoes off in one undignified motion. Good thing he’s not going for seduction, he just desperately wants this over.

“Come on, Cas,” he says and tosses a glance over his shoulder. The alpha looks at him, dumbstruck, as Dean crawls onto the bed and positions himself in a parody of the ‘present’ positions so favored in alpha/omega porn, and probably by those who still hold traditional gender values. Dean imagines he’s quite a sight, naked from the waist down, shirttails skimming the tops of his thighs, bowtie still perfectly knotted. His half-dressed state only heightens his nervousness, but he won’t, can’t show that now. He's going to brazen this shit show out. He casts another glance back and Cas is still standing there. He’s looking panicked, which is ridiculous because it’s not his ass that’s about to be knotted, and it wasn’t his ass that was raped just a few hours ago and is still aching and abused. Not only that, but Dean knows for a fact that Cas wants him. After all, he was all over me at that party a few years ago.

Dean’s arms start shaking, and he has to take some deep breaths to try and calm himself. He’s still trying not to think about what happened, about how his life has completely fallen apart, but tendrils of thoughts keep burrowing into his consciousness like insidious roots of some mutant plant. He’s no longer an alpha. He’s lost his agency. He’ll be bending to the will of alphas for the rest of his life. Maybe Cas will be a good one who will look after him, or maybe he will be an asshole who will use Dean for sex and breeding. Dean had a choice: mate Cas, or take his chances with Lucifer and Balthazar. Just their names make his breath catch.

“Come on, Cas,” he grinds out, “I know you want it.” He almost wants to try to make a joke of it, wiggle his butt, be alluring, but his body hurts from the beating he received, his mind aches from all the changes he can’t quite reconcile, and he just needs this to be over. Please don’t make me beg, he thinks, and then he can hear footsteps coming towards him and he tries to relax as he feels Cas’ hand on the small of his back. The rasp of a zipper sounds. Dean can smell himself, his scent bitter, old lemons turning to vinegar. Cas’ scent has always been clean and musky, autumnal and outdoorsy, but today he smells of rough seas on a winter’s day, grey and wild and a little scary. The feel of his hand, warm and rough on Dean’s overheated skin, is both grounding and terrifying. Dean doesn’t want Cas to make this easy. There’s no way this is going to be easy, and although Dean is acquiescing, he isn’t consenting. The bed dips as Cas climbs behind him and Dean can feel his trouser-clad legs insinuating their way between his, the cloth dragging roughly against his leg hairs. Then Cas’ hand stops feeling comforting and starts to feel constricting and Dean can feel sweat prickle at his hairline as his breath begins to wheeze. He tries to skitter away, but Cas presses down more firmly. Almost as an afterthought, Cas rubs a soothing circle on Dean’s back. Dean cannot fucking take it, his eyes are burning and he’s a second away from crying. 

“Get on with it.” Please. Dean can hear Cas sigh and it sounds pained, not impatient. Please, please hurry before I chicken out, Dean thinks. Then there’s a finger in his crack, searching out his abused hole. He winces, not with physical pain but the memory of the attack and the fear that Cas will cause him pain. He doesn’t want to be a drama queen about it. It happened, it fucking sucked, but it’s over and now he has to make the most of the cards that have been dealt. Dean is nothing if not a master of lies. He just wants to lock himself in a dark room, pull the covers over his head, cry, and just feel sorry for himself, if only for a little while.

The finger is circling his hole now. At least he’s trying not to hurt me, Dean thinks. He’d probably like me to enjoy this. Not fucking likely. Even before Balthazar and Lucifer, Dean hadn’t had any interest in sex. Sex makes him think of locker rooms, the smell of sweat and Deep Heat, and the pain of penetration and of a small body squashed beneath that of a middle-aged man. Coach Tucker stole Dean’s childhood and his potential sex life; Balthazar and Lucifer just reinforced those lessons. Confirmed that Dean is weak and deserves this. Finally, Cas’ finger penetrates Dean, but he’s still dry. His body hasn’t finished rearranging itself to allow for self-lubrication.

“Fuck,” Cas mutters as he pulls out and Dean can hear a drawer open and rustling as he searches for something, lube Dean suspects, before the finger returns, slick now. This time it enters smoothly. Dean can’t help but clench and Cas’ hand is there again, this time on his thigh rubbing those soothing circles and Dean wants to kill something with his bare hands. Instead he slows his breathing and relaxes his muscles incrementally so that Cas can add another finger. That hurts and Dean knows it’s going to get a whole lot worse. He’s as relaxed as he can make himself considering, and Cas is still doing his thing, stretching and feeling around and Dean knows what’s coming next but distracts himself by thinking of the first time he had met Castiel. He had been a quiet teenager, quite attractive but serious. Dean had liked him. Over the years they had crossed paths occasionally, never really friends, and if not for that stupid party where a drunken Cas had been a bit too enthusiastic about kissing and groping Dean, maybe they could’ve been friends.

Jesus, what the fuck was that? Dean inhales sharply as stars explode behind his eyes.

“Don’t,” he groans. He doesn’t want this, he doesn’t want to enjoy it. That’s just fucked up. He wants to plead as Cas prods that place again and Dean can feel shards of himself breaking off and leaving behind raw, delicate places. Cas seems to understand and stops trying to include Dean in the act and even though he's trying to be as uninvolved in this deed as possible, Dean appreciates it’s costing Cas a part of himself as well.

Dean wants to tell him to hurry and get it over with but he’s not a total asshole and sooner than he’d like he hears the crinkle of the condom. Blunt pressure is the only warning before Cas enters him, slow but inexorable, and it hurts deep and raw. Cas tries his best and Dean appreciates that, but he was badly torn and has not had time to heal. The intrusion has his pain sensors firing shots of agony up his spine. Dean tries to stay silent and stoic, but he feels exposed, like his hidden places, his private thoughts and careless secrets are being heard, like Cas is opening doors and peeping around corners to find his inner workings, and it’s all too much.

“Dean,” Cas sighs as he starts to pull out and the pull of rubber against Dean’s raw passage is too much. Dean swallows his rising gorge and does what he always does when he feels stressed: he sings. Not out loud, that would be just weird.

‘Think in terms of bridges burned’ thrust  
‘Think of seasons that must end’ withdraw  
‘See the rivers rise and fall’ thrust  
‘They will rise and fall again’ withdraw – Cas’ hand strokes Dean’s cheek, Dean stutters and comes back to himself.

“Shush,” Cas says and Dean didn’t even know that he was whining again. He hadn’t realized that his cheeks are wet with tears or that he can barely breathe because mucus is clogging his nose and throat. “Shush, nearly over.”

Dean wants to scream at him and tell him to stop being so fucking nice. Just treat him like the used-up omega he is now, but he bites his tongue, literally. He can taste the coppery blood and it grounds him for a moment as he feels Cas falter and the warm pulse within him, the tightening of his passage as Cas’ knot grows. As he feels Cas pulse he's almost surprised by the sharp pain of the mating bite on his neck. Dean had never expected to mate; Sammy would provide all the heirs required for the Winchester pack. Dean planned to marry himself to the pack, work hard to maintain peace and growth. Dean was happy when everyone else was. Now, here he was, mated. It’s just another item in a long list of confusing and downright unpleasant circumstances. What should have been a happy day, with someone he loved, was an exercise in embarrassment with a virtual stranger.

Being tied is probably the most intimate experience Dean has ever had. He’d been raped of course, and Lucifer had knotted him, not even waiting until the knot had gone down. When he had pulled out, he had torn Dean badly. This though was awful. Too warm, too intimate. Castiel had maneuvered them onto their sides and was wrapped around Dean like the world’s worst blanket: warm, silent, and just – there. His right hand is rubbing those stupid circles on Dean’s hip and Cas’ breathing is slow and soothing and Dean can feel himself, against his better judgment, relaxing. It’s odd, being in this vulnerable position, with someone he barely knows and feeling so quieted. Dean’s breathing slows and the warm length of Cas’ body feels less imprisoning now and more worshipful. The puffs of Cas’ breath against Dean’s neck reminds him of the snare drum in “Come Together,” and isn’t that just weirdly relevant. The broken parts of Dean, the sharp edges, and ripped portions feel soothed and if he had enough wherewithal Dean would probably resent it. He’s an awkward asshole but feeling lulled for the first time in two days, Dean just rolls with it and lets his eyes close, lets himself drift into sleep knowing that two days ago he would have never allowed himself to end up in this weakened position.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean dreams of the night of the rape.

Balthazar and Lucifer were in town and although Dean had never really considered them friends, he had previously experienced a few fun nights out with them. It had been surprising then when Luc had phoned and invited him out ostensibly for ‘drinks with the boys.’ Dean had been flattered. Although he was a friendly guy, he didn’t have many close friends. Sammy of course, and maybe Garth, so he had thought it would be nice. Not to mention it’s always useful to maintain friendly inter-pack relationships.

The evening had started out pleasantly enough, but Dean had noticed that Balthazar and Lucifer had the same cold blue, appraising eyes. They made Dean feel like they were peeling away the brittle layers that protected his soft inner core. He wasn’t much of a drinker, so he had only had two beers when he started feeling woozy and his limbs felt heavy and awkward.

“Lightweight!” Lucifer had said and although his words sounded fond, his eyes were ravenous, eyeing Dean like he was the juiciest prime rib. “Let’s get you somewhere you can lie down,” he had said and raised an eyebrow at Balthazar as his smile turned cruel. Dean tried to resist, tried to talk, but his tongue was too big for his mouth and too clumsy to form the words he needed.

Cold air on his face, then the clunk of car doors. Dean’s memory fractures into snapshots. Hands-on his body, suddenly naked. Laughter and mocking words as someone forces themselves into his body. No lubrication, just a relentless, searing intrusion that rips both Dean’s body and his mind apart until little fragments of him drift away in a sea of agony and degradation. Blank spaces in the memories of the night are a relief, but his dream-self fills in those gaps with more pain, more humiliation until all Dean is – is a small, shattered thing, loveless, tarnished and alone.

He awakes with a start, the dream lingering uninvited. Cas is there, he grumbles in his sleep and pulls Dean closer, snuffling against his hair. At that moment, Dean doesn’t know whether it’s comforting or confining. His shirt feels wrecked and Cas’s trousers are an irritation against Dean’s ass and thighs, but at least he isn't naked. Cas’ knot slipped out some time while he was asleep and Dean’s ass feels a mess, wet with lube and burning. Dean is going to have trouble walking today, but he’s borne worse.

Dean lies as still as possible, barely breathing; he doesn’t want to wake Cas. That awkwardness can just wait, preferably until the next millennium. However, he can feel the moment that Cas awakens, like the state of the atmosphere changes. One minute Dean is alone with his thoughts, the next he isn't. Fuck.

“So, want to get drunk?” Cas asks. His voice is gravelly from sleep and it’s like 6 am or some shitty hour and Dean is lying in bed with a man he barely knows with lube seeping out of his ass, and that was either the most inappropriate question ever or fucking genius. There’s only one answer of course.

“Can’t think of anything I’d rather do.” And for once in these past few shitty days Dean isn’t lying, isn’t compromising, he’s just doing what he wants.  
“Yeah, let me shower first.” Dean could feel the remnants of last night between the cheeks of his ass. It was neither pleasant nor anything he wanted to get used to.

The connected bathroom is small, holding just a toilet, small shower, and sink. Dean cranks the temperature as high as he can stand and lets the water beat down on him. Washing away the residue of the mating helps marginally but the scalding water can’t wash away his pain and humiliation. He looks down at his body; it looks the same. He’s in reasonable shape, and his skin is a light golden hue with a healthy sprinkling of freckles. He scrubs at his skin until it glows red, more gently around his ass, which thrums with a deep-seated ache. Dean perfunctorily cleans his cock, which he notes looks exactly the same. He had thought that it would look different, smaller maybe, but he supposes the difference will only be obvious once he's aroused. The heat of the water does help ease his aches and the fragrance of the soap and shampoo are calming, so when he heads out of the shower, his mood has improved. Cas has put some sweats on the closed toilet seat while Dean was in the shower, and he’s too grateful to be disturbed by it. Once dressed in the soft clothing, he exits the bathroom to see his husband sitting on the couch nursing a whiskey.

They don’t talk. There’s no ease between them. The fact that one of them has been inside the other’s body makes things worse. If their relationship had been a natural progression of meeting, liking, fucking, then there probably would have been less discomfort. Dean embraces the awkward, revels in the uneasiness as he swallows his whiskey, enjoying the burn. Cas is silent too, but he's watching Dean appraisingly. His eyes hold warmth and affection that is making Dean feel violent. He wants to hurt Cas, make him feel a tiny percentage of the pain he feels. He knows that’s unfair, Cas didn’t ask for this any more than he did, and now he’s stuck with Dean. Dean, who at this point doesn’t know whether he will be able to rebuild the splintered pieces of himself into something new- not better, hopefully not worse, just different. Omega. The word is a curse in Dean’s brain. He never had a lot of dealings with omegas in the past, he knows instinctively that they are supposed to be more sensitive, and that makes sense. He certainly feels delicate now. He’s pleased that he’s never discriminated against omegas, people are people and Dean has always been a “live and let live” sort of guy. He knows there are states where omegas have very few rights, he knows he’s lucky that he lives in California; sunny California is pretty liberal in that area. Even so, all that Dean owns now belongs to Cas, and he supposes the pack lawyer will sort all that out.

“So…” Dean says because there’s awkward and then there’s this.

“So,” Cas agrees, the fucker.

“So.” Dean shoots back, “What the fuck do we do now? I think you’re going to have to spell it out for me. Use small words, since apparently my brain is losing capacity as my knot disappears.”

Cas blushes and rubs his hand through his hair.

“I don’t know what you want me to say. This is as much of a surprise…” Dean snorts, “surprise,” Cas continues giving Dean the stink eye, “to me. We are going to have to muddle through this together. I don’t have any answers.”

Fuck, that’s no help, but apparently Cas realizes that as he has a distinctly guilty look about him.

“Well, shall we start small? Where are we going to be living?” Dean looks away and around the packhouse bedroom, and a thought crosses his mind, “Do you even want me to live with you?” The ridiculousness of this arrangement comes crashing down on him. These details should have been sorted out during their courtship. Of course, there had been no wooing, dating, falling in love, or proposal. One damaging evening had irrevocably changed everything.

“With me?” Cas asked, his voice small and uncertain. “I want you to live with me.”

“Oh, well that’ll be where I’m living then,” Dean said as he felt his heart lurch. “It’s not like I have a choice.” Bitterness apparently was now Dean’s middle name.

“No, no, Jesus, fuck,” Cas looked…distraught. He grabbed Dean’s hand then dropped it just as quickly, “Damn it, I’m normally more eloquent than this. Let’s sit down.” He gestures at a little sofa along the wall of the bedroom, “Do you want another drink?” He looks at Dean, who is nursing his empty glass, holding onto it as if it were a life raft. Dean shakes his head and makes his way to the couch, sitting in the far corner and pulling his legs up in front of him; they make a pretty good makeshift barrier. He doesn’t want anymore to drink, he feels relaxed and loose-limbed but not out-of-control.

Cas purposefully sits at the other end and continues, “I like you, Dean. I have always liked you, I know there was that time in the club.” He rubs his hands on his sweats. “Yeah, that wasn’t my finest moment, but I like you.”

“I think I get it, Cas. You like me,” Dean says dully. So here it is, Dean’s life mapped out by one mistake, as good as married to a man who likes him. Likes mean sex, and probably just because Dean is so fucking lucky, it probably means a whole fucking lot of sex.

“Christ, no,” Cas breaks through Dean’s internal monologue. “I mean yes, obviously. Jesus fucking Christ, I’ve lost my ability to speak English.” Cas leans back on the couch and bangs his head a few times on the wall behind.

“Look, I liked you as an alpha, I like you as an omega, I like you as a person. You, Dean, are still your own person. If you don’t want to live with me, then don’t. If you don’t want to sleep with me, then don’t. I’m not an asshole, well not much of one. I will never force myself on you.” He looks at Dean pleadingly.

Dean wants to retort that he had tried to force himself on Dean once, but that was petty because in the end he hadn’t, and he had been really drunk. Dean also knows that for all Cas’s pretty words, Dean has no choice: as a mated omega he has to live with his husband.

“Okay,” Dean said, his voice was as small as he felt. He wasn’t even sure what he was agreeing to, but he was a good judge of character and he was pretty sure Cas was telling the truth.

“Okay.” Cas agreed, rising to his feet. “Want to go see where I live, and then you can decide?”

Dean nods. Sometimes words are hard, especially when chaos has taken over Dean’s once organized life. His hand moves to the mating mark on his neck and rubs at it, sending sparks through his nerves.

“What about Luna?” Dean asked.

“Luna?” Cas echoes, confusion wrinkling his brow.

“My cat. Can we go and pick her up?”

“I’m allergic,” Cas says, giving Dean a sad glance as he opens the door to another room. Dean can hear the hum of conversation in the distance. God, he’s going to have to interact with people. He pushed away thoughts of not having Luna in his life, his kitty had helped him through some tough times and he loved her, almost as much as Sam and Dad.

“Okay, I’ll see if Sam can take her,” Dean says quietly.

“No…” Cas starts but is interrupted.

“Castiel, Dean, enjoy your wedding night, eh?” a short man asks. Dean seems to remember him being one of Castiel’s brothers.

“Gabriel, for God’s sake. Could you be any more inappropriate?”

“Hell yes, I could. So Dean-o, does my brother measure up?”

“Measure up to what exactly?” Dean retorts.

“No need to get snippy, just wanted to make sure he was keeping the pretty omega satisfied.”

Well, this is just great. What a fantastic way to start his day.

“So, here’s the thing, it doesn’t matter if he keeps me satisfied, all that matters is if this ‘pretty omega’ keeps him satisfied, and that’s something you’re going to have to ask your brother.” Because Dean is already so finished with all this bullshit, he nudges his husband. “Are you ready to go, Cas?”

“Yeah.” Cas grabs Dean’s hand and leads him out of the house. Dean is too pissed off to protest the handholding.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4.

Once Dean’s anger subsides, he feels shaky and unsettled. Cas drives them into town, the open green spaces and solitary ranches and clapboard houses giving way to grey brick tenements and strip malls and then later to tall office buildings and more upmarket apartment blocks. Cas pulls into an underground parking area beneath one of the swankier high-rises. Dean lets his mind drift.

“I’m in the penthouse.” Of course he is, Dean thinks as he follows Cas to the elevator. Luna probably wouldn’t have liked it here anyway. Too urban, she liked to look out the window at the birds and would sit there chattering at them. She was cute, he was going to miss her so much.

It was in the elevator that the first pains hit, searing through Dean’s midsection and causing him to double over. Sweat pricks out over his body as his temperature rises, distracting him slightly from the agony of his internal organs changing and rearranging. It wasn’t a heat, per se, more like a pre-heat. His body was experimenting with its new biology. All he knew was that it hurt. Gasping, he has no choice but to let Castiel help him upright and pull Dean into his arms.

“Let’s get you to bed.” Cas rumbles, and now Dean is even finding his voice comforting. This omega biology thing sucks. Dean isn’t some submissive plaything that’s soothed by his alpha’s voice. He's a grown-ass man, who had been an alpha in his own right only two days ago; now he’s a simpering damsel in distress. Crippling pain shoots through his abdomen, taking the breath from his lungs and derailing his mutinous thoughts. He can practically feel his womb growing, forcing other organs aside, asserting its importance in Dean’s new designation. Panting, he lets Castiel hold him upright while he fiddles with his keys and lets them into the apartment. If Dean wasn’t in so much pain, he no doubt would be impressed by the open-plan layout, the expensive furniture, and artwork. As it is, he just wants to get horizontal as quickly as possible.

Cas helps him to bed, it’s soft and the duvet is warm. He knows there are pills and juice, and later there’s a warm body holding him, a hand spread low on his abdomen, scorching the skin there and easing the pain.

Dean lies there in warmth and comfort. The pain has subsided, not gone, and his insides feel raw and heavy. His mind wanders over all the things he’s lost: his home, his family, his agency, and maybe most painfully, Luna. If he were home now, he would be in bed and Luna would be pestering him to be pet or fed. Luna has seen him through the best of times and the worst. Dean isn’t really one for dwelling on things that make him unhappy. Bad things have happened in his life and he’s coped with them. There’s no use in feeling sorry for himself, but there have been times when the cloud of darkness has enveloped him, and if it hadn’t been for Luna, he wonders whether he would still be here. Then he wonders why still being here is a good thing. He isn't even really still himself after all. If he had ended his life all those months ago when the misery descended again, when all he could taste was gross gym sock and all he could smell was sweat and booze, then he wouldn’t have to do this, whatever the fuck this was.

Cas is holding him, like he’s a real partner, like he wants this like Dean is worth something to him, and Dean isn’t really sure what to make of that. He knows that Cas finds him attractive, or at least he had that one time. Of course, he’d been wasted at the time, maybe Dean had been any port in a storm. He supposes it doesn’t really matter, he’s Cas’ now, to do with what he will. Cas had said that Dean would be able to have a say whether he slept with Cas or not, yet here he's in the same bed, so that goes to show how little his promises mean. When he wakes, he will probably reach over and take what he wants from Dean, like everyone else has. Dean moves his hand to his abdomen avoiding Cas’s hand, touching just above it. His stomach still feels the same. It’s hard for Dean to comprehend the changes within that will allow him to conceive a child, that means he will go into heat and crave the knot of an alpha. He wonders whether his body will soften, become prettier, less muscular so that he’ll be more attractive to alphas. He suspects it will. Considering everything that’s happened over the last few days, he supposes it isn’t that bad, but it’s just one more thing that Dean’s lost about himself, one more thing that sucks.

Cas’s hand moves and takes his own. Dean freezes, his breathing stops and he can hear the pulse in his ears, so loud, he wouldn’t be surprised if the tenants downstairs can hear it as well. Cas kisses the back of his neck and that isn’t alright. Dean pulls away or tries to, anyway. The hand at his middle holds him firm, but the lips move away from his neck.

“How are you feeling?” asks that gravelly voice.

“Better.” Dean bites out because he could talk for hours and still not adequately describe how he feels.

“Hmmm.” The word is breathed against his neck and then Dean notices something that should have been obvious from the moment he awoke. Cas is aroused and his erection is burning against Dean’s thigh. Fuck. Dean scoots away as far as the restraining hand will let him.

“I need the bathroom.” Dean squeaks because no, thank you.

“Of course, Dean.” Cas’s hand rubs a slow, incendiary circle on his stomach, igniting nerve endings, and against Dean’s will, his cock gives an interested twitch. Isn’t that just wonderful? He has lived his life as a monk, with no interest in sex, then he gets raped, and suddenly he's a cockslut. Well, his body might be on board with the new status quo but his mind sure as fuck isn’t, and that’s the part that’s in control. Throwing off Cas’ hand he beats a swift retreat to the bathroom and locks the door, leaning against it he slides to the floor. Fuck his life.

Once in the bathroom, Dean relaxes. It’s like a sanctuary. It smells good and, better still, Dean is alone. He hasn’t been by himself since before it happened. He feels tired and depressed. His brain feels sluggish, which is a change. Normally, it’s racing from one bad memory to another, until Dean discovered that he could lock bad memories in little boxes, compartmentalize if you will, and when they threaten to surface he puts new padlocks on the boxes and buries them under years of denial. Sitting on the marble floor of Cas’ luxurious bathroom, the locks ping open and secrets and lies spill out all over the place, and before he can shove them back where the sun doesn’t shine, he’s crying – again. He doesn’t want to deal with all this shit. He knows why it’s come to a head now, it’s because his position has become vulnerable. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen now. His life has been split into two distinct parts: the before and the after. The after is scary, it’s the unknown, but what little Dean can discern is that part two is going to suck really badly, so badly he’s starting to wish Lucifer and Balthazar had finished him off. 

Castiel doesn’t seem like such a bad guy, but now that he has control of Dean who knows what the fuck he’ll do. Maybe he’ll just fuck him whenever he wants, or share him. Maybe he’ll beat him, or get him pregnant. God, life sucks. Dean gets up, even though his breathing is erratic and he can’t exactly see clearly. He searches the cabinets for something, anything. He finds some aspirin and a razor blade, not ideal, but he can work with it. Swallowing the last eight aspirin he draws the razor down his left forearm. There’s a burning and blood starts to flow at an alarming rate. Quickly, Dean tackles his other arm, the cut is shallower and more crooked. He doesn’t have as much control, and he feels weak. He casts a quick glance in the mirror. His eyes are wild and feverish and seem far greener than normal. His freckles stand out starkly against his abnormally pale face. He doesn’t even look like himself anymore. Those men took everything from him, but he won’t let them win. He’s not going to sit around and be someone’s bitch, no matter how good he smells, or how comforting his scent or presence is. He doesn’t want people to see him like this: different, lesser. Dean’s crying again. He looks down. The sink is a horror show, blood staining the pristine white and running down the drain in rivulets. Dean’s legs feel funny, and his head is buzzing like he’s had too much to drink. He tries to sit back down but ends up falling in a heap on the floor and, for some reason, that seems like the funniest thing ever. Giggling, he lies down because that seems like a great idea. He can hear an irritating banging – maybe it’s his head, it doesn’t feel right. ‘I’m sorry, Sammy, Dad,’ he thinks before the lights go out.

Heaven is warm and cozy and Dean feels awesome. If he’d known it was like this, he would’ve done this years ago, after Coach, maybe. He opens his eyes. It’s difficult, they’re so heavy, but he really wants to see what Heaven looks like. He wonders if there are clouds and cherubic angels with harps. There aren’t. What he opens his eyes to is that same pair of concerned blue eyes. Fuck his life.

“Dean,” Cas says sadly, his scent is rainy days, and Dean can hardly stand the fact that he did that. “You need to talk to me, we’re in this together.” Cas’ hand pets his head and Dean is too doped up on the good stuff to be angry. In fact, the feel of the alpha’s fingertips massaging his head feels so good, but Dean wants to scream at Cas that his life isn’t the one that’s been torn asunder. Dean isn’t a different person, but in all sorts of important ways he is, can’t Cas understand that?

“I don’t want this.” Dean manages to blurt out hoarsely. He feels like it’s the first honest thing he’s said in days.

“I know.” Cas sighs, “But this is what we have. I’ll make this as easy as possible for you. I promise.” He smiles, it’s small and sad. “You know if I could turn back time, I would stop Luc and Balthazar, even if I had to kill them with my bare hands.” He takes Dean’s hand and Dean notices that his wrists are tightly bandaged. “I’m going to do everything in my power to make you happy again.” Dean keeps his eyes on those pristine bandages and wonders if Cas knows that even before the attack, he wasn’t really happy. Content maybe, but happiness is an unformed concept that Dean can barely grasp.

“Okay.” Dean concurs, because really, what choice does he have?

Cas seems to notice Dean’s interest in his wrist.

“Fifteen stitches in the left arm, eighteen in the right.” Cas nods towards Dean’s bandaged limbs. “The Doctor said you were very determined.” Cas tilts his head and scrunches his brow up. “Dean, please promise not to do that again.”

Dean nods, he’s pretty sure he doesn’t mean it, but he wants to take that look off Cas’ face.

Dean hears the door open and realizes that he’s in a hospital bed, clearly doped-up since he’s feeling no pain. Maybe that’s why he's agreeing with Cas, just to make the man happy.

“Hello, beautiful,” says the doctor, a stunning brunette, who smiles at Dean and takes his other hand. “You’ve given your equally beautiful husband a bit of a scare, eh?”

Dean nods mutely. This doctor has an interesting bedside manner, but at least the more she talks, the less Dean has to.

Her face changes, the smile slips into something more sympathetic and Dean hates that. “Dean, I know you’ve had a pretty difficult week.” There goes that understatement again. “You’ve had a lot of changes, and I expect you think none of them are good changes, and for sure none of them were your choice, but Dean, there are lots of omegas leading happy and fulfilling lives and there are even alphas and betas that want to be turned.” Dean goes to interject, but the doctor waves him off. “I know you didn’t choose this, and that’s why I insist that you go to therapy.”

“Therapy?” Dean croaks. He feels dehydrated and shifts his gaze from the doctor to Castiel, who just nods.

“Yes, Dean, therapy. It’s not a life sentence, honey, just talk to someone about your feelings.” Jesus, Dean doesn’t talk to anyone about his feelings. That sounds worse than a life sentence. “ Cas has already agreed to it as your alpha.” Of course, Dean doesn’t hold his own agency anymore. Cas will make all his medical decisions, hell, all his decisions now. Dean throws Cas a mutinous look, but Cas just squeezes his hand.

“Dean, I’m not going to apologize, you need to talk to someone. I need you to feel better,” he sighs, “I need to know that you won’t do this again because I won’t be able to forgive myself if anything happens to you.” Cas looks at Dean, his gaze is intransigent, but Dean can see genuine concern in the alpha’s eyes and can smell sorrow in Cas’ rainy-day scent.

Dean wants to tell him that it’s not his fault because it isn’t. Cas ended up in this shit show because of Dean and his stupid choices, but Dean can’t even look up at Cas, let alone get his tongue to form actual words. Cas’ hand in his hair is a small comfort, and he feels his body lean into Cas’ against his will, those mindless fingers, those tiny points of contact anchor Dean.

“I know you don’t believe me, but it’s going to be alright, Dean. I’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure that your life from this moment on is at least as good as your life was before. I’m going to make you want to dance again.”

Dean’s eyes shot up and he found those denim blue eyes looking at him. How did Cas know he liked to dance? He used to love to dance, move to the music. He hated going to clubs, hated the crowds, the alcohol, the sexual expectations, the only reason he would go was so he could dance, close his eyes, and just let go. He used to dance alone in his apartment. Luna would look at him as if he was mad, and maybe he was a bit. He would sing to her as he gyrated and pointed a finger and she would look at him with contempt, but that was her default setting.

It seems like a small thing, but really it isn’t. It’s huge and he replies, “Yeah, Cas, I want to dance again, too.”


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Home. He supposes Cas’ apartment is now his home. Cas leads him to the couch and sits him down, leaving him alone while he goes to the kitchen and returns with a glass of orange juice.

“Got to keep hydrated,” he says with a smile as he hands the glass over. Dean feels a movement on the couch and there’s Luna looking her normal imperious self. She meows and nudges Dean’s hand.

“Luna,” he whispers reverently as he rubs her face and she reciprocates by purring like a Harley. “I didn’t think I was going to see you again, Princess.” He leans over and kisses her and she purrs her appreciation. Normally if he had been away from her for any length of time Luna would reward him by ignoring him for days, just to make him aware of her disapproval but today she seems to know that he needs her.

Dean looks up at Cas questioningly, and can’t help but notice him flinching. “I thought you said you were allergic?”

“That’s why God made antihistamine.” the alpha replies, tilting his head in a way that Dean is quickly finding endearing.

In that moment, Dean realizes something. Cas puts Dean’s happiness above his own health, and surely if that is the case, Dean can try to make this work. He has Luna, and she may be a surly bitch, but she’s Dean’s surly bitch and she loves him as much as he loves her. Maybe he doesn’t love Cas, but the man seems likable. Maybe with time, Dean can learn to trust him, and who knows what can grow from that. 

Dean looks at his husband, who’s sitting kitty-corner to him; he was idly scratching Luna, who was tolerating the attention. He wasn’t a bad-looking man, Dean properly noticed for the first time. He had dark tousled hair that Dean had never seen looking combed or tidied and bright blue eyes in a face that was so aesthetically pleasing that even Dean could appreciate it. He had full pink lips and Dean wondered whether they would feel soft and warm if he kissed him, then he wondered where the fuck that thought had come from. Dean’s asexual, at least that’s what he suspected, he didn’t like to define himself. He hadn’t had any interest in men or women, and he barely masturbated – when he did, it was more for a release of pressure than from any sexual motive. It was probably some sort of omega hormones or some shit. Cas’ scent probably made Dean docile and wanting. Fuck, Dean was going to have to get on the Internet and do some research. He was going into this blind and Dean had always been prepared for whatever exam, report, or talk he ever had. This was his life, he needed preparation. Hell, he wished he’d listened more in genetic designations class at school, instead of using the time to prep for his AP chemistry class.

“Dean,” Cas says, shocking Dean out of his reverie. “You have your first therapy session tomorrow. I also thought maybe you might want to go to an omega support group.”

Dean feels his heart sink. Sitting here peacefully in Cas’ apartment, his best friend the grumpy kitty between them, he could almost forget the rest of the world. Cas’ words were an unwelcome reminder that he would have to leave this sanctuary and venture out into the world. Other people would see him and judge him. He hates to be that guy, the one who cares about what other people think, but he’s living on his last nerve and just one unkind word may throw him over the precipice. Dean, being Dean, just nods. It wouldn’t hurt in the long run to talk to other omegas, or at least just sit there and listen to them. He hopes that their words will comfort him, and not make his panic any worse, but at least they would know the truth of his new designation. Even if what they told him was bad, being forewarned is forearmed.  
“Does that mean you’re agreeable, Dean?” Cas asks, looking up from Luna.

Dean nods again. He can’t seem to talk, which is odd because Old Dean was affable, casually flirty with no agenda, loquacious even. Maybe he lost that along with his knot. Ah well, omega’s mouths are only useful for one thing and it isn’t talking.

Cas shows him to his room, and Dean can barely hide his sigh of relief. He really thought he would end up in Cas’s bed and all the awkwardness that would entail.  
This is obviously the guest room, nicely decorated with an adjoining half-bath, but lacking in personality, unlike the rest of the apartment. The last bedroom Dean had been in must have been Cas’s room; at least Dean has a room of his own. Dean hasn’t explored properly but he had noticed the bookshelves of well-worn and hence most likely well-read books, the cross-stitched pillows, which wouldn’t have hit Dean’s radar had he not noticed the cross-stitch frame with a half-finished design on it. Dean would never mock a man for having such a traditionally omega hobby; he himself enjoys knitting. Maybe he will ask Sam to bring his knitting basket over, at least in that he can be a good omega.

Thinking about his apartment, Dean knows he can never return there. Just the thought is distressing. He wonders whether Cas will sell it, it’s his right. Although looking around, Cas doesn’t seem to hurt for money. Sighing, Dean lies down on the bed, without bothering to undress. His wrists and abdomen ache, but he lets the pain wash over him, ground him in the moment. He doesn’t expect to sleep, but the dull ache becomes somewhat soothing, and soon enough he drifts off.

xXxXx

Dean’s had awkward mornings before. Not that he’s ever had a morning after, but he’s walked in on girls in their underwear cooking for Sam before, back when they shared a place. This morning Dean is coffee deprived, or else he would have hidden in his room until he died of starvation. The food he can do without, caffeine is another story.

Cas is up, of course.

“Hello, Dean.” Cas smiled, he's sitting at the table nursing a cup of coffee and the divine aroma is wafting toward Dean like a siren’s call.

“Hey.” Who would believe Dean was once eloquent? “Coffee?”

Cas smiles affectionately and nods at the pot. Thank God Cas isn’t one of those alphas who doesn’t allow their omegas to have caffeine.

Dean grabs the largest mug he can find and pours himself a cup of holy redemption and takes a seat opposite Cas at the table. He takes a huge slurp and moans in pleasure. Damn, this is good coffee.

Cas blushes and stutters, “Shall I leave you alone with that?”

Dean smiles, “Sorry, this is the best thing that’s happened to me in days.” And he takes another mouthful.

Cas smiles, but it’s small and sad. Dean flinches. “Shit, I’m sorry, that was rude. Of course you know mating and…stuff was…”

“Shush Dean, I know this isn’t what you would have chosen for yourself. You don’t need to lie to me.”

“But maybe I shouldn’t be quite so honest?” Dean says, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe.” Cas agrees wryly. “Anyway, drink up, do you want any breakfast? I can probably burn you some eggs. We need to get moving. Your appointment is in an hour.”

Dean’s stomach dips unpleasantly. He’s not looking forward to having to talk to someone about all this, particularly as the therapist will be reporting back to his alpha. Dean just shakes his head. He isn't hungry, his stomach is acidy, and the coffee probably isn’t helping. He doesn’t remember the last time he ate, but that’s the least of his problems.

xXx

The therapist’s office isn’t at all what Dean imagined it would be. For a start, it isn’t in a medical center, it’s in a house, a cute little wooden framed cottage. When Dean sees the therapist he’s surprised. He's one of the largest alphas Dean’s seen this side of Sammy’s growth spurt. Somehow, Dean had expected a beta or even an omega therapist.

“Dean” he says, by way of introduction. “I’m Benny, why don’t you take a seat?”  
Dean sits in the comfortable armchair and nods at Benny. He already knows this is going to suck and determines to say as little as possible. He doesn’t want Cas to know his business, the only private things left in Dean’s life are his thoughts and he’s going to protect those with his life.

“So,” the therapist starts, as he pours two glasses of water from the jug on the table between them. “You’ve had an eventful week.”

Dean doesn’t answer. It wasn’t a question, after all. Benny looks at him and stays quiet. The pause becomes awkward quickly but Dean knows it’s a ploy to get him talking, and Benny doesn’t know how many interpack meetings Dean has attended and used the exact same method. He’s a fucking pro, so Dean waits it out.

Benny nods knowingly, “So Dean, do you want to tell me about your week?”

Rookie mistake, Dean thinks as he answers “No.” Keep answers short and give away as little as possible. He’s not letting Cas know how he’s feeling, no matter how nice he appears. Trust is earned.

“Hmmm. Do you want to be here Dean?”

“Not really.” Dean answers. It’s the truth, he only agreed to this to get out of the hospital.

“Well, I have to send a report to Omega Services, Dean, and if they think you aren’t complying they may take you away from Mr. Novak and put you in an omega inpatient treatment facility.” Dean freezes, he definitely doesn’t like the sound of that. “Now, I’m sure you can compromise enough to make this session work so that doesn’t have to happen.” Benny looks at Dean, his pale blue eyes are nowhere near as attractive as Castiel’s, but they have a similar sympathetic look. Dean wants to scratch them out with his nails. What right does he have to feel sympathy for Dean? He’ll never know what it’s like to have his life turned upside down. Ruined.

Dean isn’t stupid though, better the devil you know. He’s going to have to engage in this session, at least minimally, so that he doesn’t get shipped off to some omega home. Dean nods dumbly, hoping Benny takes it as a lack of intelligence. Well, now that he's an omega, his intelligence is probably waning much like his knot is.

“Shall we try again? Tell me about your week, Dean.”

Dean sighs and starts, “It sucked,” and he’s not being wilful, those two words pretty much describe the week from hell he has just endured.

Benny nods, “Yeah, brother, I guess it did. So let’s see what we can do to make going forward suck less.”

Dean has no idea how this undefined ‘we’ are going to manage that but he’s not looking for conflict so he just nods.

“Your alpha tells me you are going to go to the Omega Support Group?” Benny asks, and Dean nods in agreement. He’s not looking forward to that either, it’s all a bit touchy-feely for his liking. He’s managed his own feelings over the years without all this New-Age crap. He hates talking about himself.

“It’ll be good for you to talk to omegas about their differing experiences. Some will be omegas born and bred, maybe they’ve had a few behavioral difficulties and that’s why they require support. Others will be turned omegas, like yourself, finding their way following such a big change.”

Dean shivers and, judging by Benny’s calculating look, he didn’t miss it. Dean is concentrating on the words ‘behavioral issues’. He thinks he knows what that means, and he definitely doesn’t want to ask for confirmation. It is an alpha’s place to correct an omega and some omegas are just a little bit too feisty and hence need a bit more correction. Even in liberal California, omegas can be taken away from their alpha if they are deemed too unruly. It is rare but it happens, and if there are no other alphas in the pack that can take the omega, they are taken under the care of Omega Services and may end up in a breeding program. Dean cannot let that happen. He needs to learn to behave and curtail his smart mouth.

“Dean.” Benny sighs, “I’m not trying to frighten you, and I am trying to help you. Next time you come we are going to talk about all the events that led you here and I am going to help you move forward. Your life is different now, but it is still your life.”

It is on the tip of Dean’s tongue to argue that it isn’t his life anymore, but an alpha wouldn’t understand so Dean just nods and looks down at his hands clasped in his lap. Hell, he’s already acting like a demure omega.

“Dean, you have an alpha sibling. Is that correct?”

Dean isn’t sure where the therapist is going with this but he agrees, “Yes, Sammy.” His voice sounds cracked through lack of use.

“Hmmm, well what would you say to Sammy if this had happened to him. What would you say to him if he blamed himself? How would you feel if he tried to kill himself if he thought his life was over?”

The question takes Dean’s breath away, both with its harshness and its insight. For a moment Dean isn’t able to speak. Then the words come flooding out.

“I would feel like crap that I hadn’t been able to protect him and then I would spend the rest of my life doing whatever is in my power to protect him. I would feel like shit if he tried to kill himself.” Dean runs out of steam and looks at Benny helplessly.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I think that covers it. Sammy did the best for you under crappy circumstances and I bet he feels like shit about it. Dean, myself, Castiel, your dad, and your brother, hell most of the Novak pack and all of the Winchester pack are on your side. They all want you to be happy. It’s not going to be a walk in the park. Everything has changed and you’re going to have to adapt, but it is possible and I’m here to help you. I’m going to see you again on Thursday, but you can call anytime you need to talk.” Benny searched in his desk drawer and handed Dean a card. “If you have any bad feelings in the meantime, think of what you would say to Sammy if it was him in your position. I think you are always kinder to others than you are to yourself.”

Dean can’t lie to himself anymore. Benny is right about a lot of things, especially that he does treat other people better than he treats himself, so maybe it’s time for Dean to be kinder to himself. But that’s easier said than done.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Living with Cas is weird. Dean has lived by himself since he was twenty and now living with someone else, someone who isn’t genetically family is all sorts of strange. Cas is unobtrusive, he gives Dean space when he needs it but by the same token, he's there when Dean starts to freak out. He tries to make sure Dean eats, but that’s easier said than done. Dean’s stomach is still painful as the internal changes progress and that added to his underlying depression means he has no appetite.

“Dean, you have to eat.” Cas urges, giving Dean a serious look as he puts a grilled cheese in front of him. Dean just looks at it. Cheese is oozing out from between two golden slices of white bread. Cas had said he was a crappy cook but clearly he can whip up a grilled cheese with the best of them. The sight of the greasy cheese makes Dean’s stomach turn, but he tries to eat it for Cas. The cheese is strong and the texture is almost slimy. Dean feels gastric juices rush into his mouth as his stomach cramps. He rushes to the bathroom but doesn’t make it and has to catch vomit in his hand before he falls to his knees and loses what little is left in his stomach.

He can hear Cas coming into the bathroom and then feels a warm, grounding hand on his neck.

“Dean,” he sighs, “I’m so worried about you.”

“I’m okay,” Dean responds. He’s not though and Cas isn’t an idiot. “I’m trying.” Dean exhales because he is, he’s trying so hard not to wallow and to get on with life, even if he’s not too sure what that life will be like.

“I know you are.” The hand caresses lightly, leaving gooseflesh in its wake and making Dean catch his breath. Dean sits back on his feet and flushes the toilet.

“Do you want to skip the omega meeting today? Maybe go back to bed for a couple of hours.” Dean can’t actually think of anything he wants to do more, but he knows he’s only delaying the inevitable, as he’ll have to suffer one of these meetings sooner rather than later. If he skips it today, he’ll end up with the same churning nerves at a later date.   
“Nah, let’s get this shit over and done with.” Dean blurts out before his brain catches up. Shit. Dean can feel all the blood in his body rush to his face. “Crap, I’m sorry.” Shit, Cas is going to be so pissed off.

“That’s okay Dean, this is a far from ideal situation. Let’s, as you say, ‘get this over and done with.’”

Dean manages a weak smile. “I’ll let you freshen up.” Cas gets up and pats Dean’s head before he leaves the bathroom. Dean knows he should find the gesture condescending but it actually feels comforting. Stupid omega hormones must be working overtime and turning him into a softy. Luna pops her head around the door as Dean stands up, “Hey, baby,” he says and gets a head boop and purr for his troubles. Dean smiles for the first time in ages and, after cleaning his teeth, he wanders into the kitchen trying to mentally prepare himself for the meeting.

As it turns out, nothing could have prepared Dean for the Omega Support Group. It meets in a small church. Cas parks up and walks Dean to the door, which is guarded by two beta security guards who don’t let Castiel past, so Cas just squeezes Dean’s shoulder, and then Dean is alone. One of the guards points Dean in the right direction and, feeling like snakes are crawling in his gut as sweat prickles at his neck, Dean walks into the meeting room, which immediately falls silent. Fantastic.

There’s an eclectic bunch of omega’s in the room; a mix of males and females of all body types, from the traditional petite to large and manly alpha, builds.

“Hi, new guy,” says an elfin redhead who exudes sunniness.

“Hi, I’m Dean and I’m a new omega.” Dean smiles his best, most charming smile, using it as a weapon, or at least armor.

“Hello, pretty boy.” says an acerbic dark-haired female, “So what made you choose to become one of the underclasses? Please tell me it wasn’t for love? You know those sorts of relationships never last.”

“Ruby!” the pretty redhead snorts, “stop scaring the new guy. Dean, welcome. My name is Charlie, and the grumpus here is Ruby.”

Dean smiles again, his face is already hurting, “Hi there, and Ruby, don’t think for one moment that I chose this, but it is what it is and here I am. So support me, fellow omegas.”

Ruby smiles for the first time since he’s seen her.

“Thank fuck for that. I was worried about your mental health.”

“Yeah, so is the government apparently, that’s one of the reasons I’m here.” He gestures with his bandaged wrists.

“Jesus! “ Charlie grasps his arms and looks at the bandages as if they have personally offended her. “Dean, there’s never an excuse for this.”

Dean looks at Charlie and he can feel the tension brewing in his stomach and that infernal itch in his shoulders. He wants to punch something. Not the pretty redhead, but something. How dare she, she doesn’t know what his life has been like. She hasn’t lived it. Dean is about to give it to her with both barrels when Ruby grabs his upper arm and says. “Charlie doesn’t know what it’s like to be in an abusive relationship, or to be raped, hurt, ignored. She’s only known love and respect.”

Dean nods and Charlie looks suitably chagrined.

“Yeah,” he looks at his wrists. “I still wish I’d succeeded,” he breathes. “I know I have people on my side, but too much has changed and I just can’t deal with it.” Dean isn’t sure where this honesty came from, he doesn’t know these people, they could just as easily tell Omega Services or Cas, and he’s not sure which would be worse.

If he had expected Charlie or Ruby to look shocked, then he was sorely mistaken. Charlie looks at him with sympathy on her face, which makes Dean want to throttle tiny kittens, but Ruby looks at him with a smile and a quirk to her brow.

“You and me are going to get on just fine, come on,” and she drags him to a seat. The chairs are arranged in a half-circle, some are already taken, but the three of them find a group together. 

“So do you think I’ll like this?” Dean gestures to the other seats and the room in general.

Charlie nods enthusiastically, and Ruby shakes her head. Dean thinks he’s probably going to hate it, but at least he has two partners in crime who seem to encompass the whole gamut of omega emotions.

The meeting is brought to order by a male omega of indeterminate age, he looks pretty young but his eyes are careworn. He introduces himself as Gadreel and tells his story of being sold by his parents to an unscrupulous auction house at fifteen. Subsequently he was bought by an alpha who tried to breed him through constant rape (although that isn’t the words Gadreel uses). Seemingly infertile, he was then abandoned to Omega Services, and he now works with abandoned and abused omegas. Dean immediately warms to him; he seems remarkably caring and surprisingly not bitter considering his history.

Others chirp in with their stories. Some are harrowing, like the young female omega who was impregnated at thirteen by her alpha father. Others like Charlie met their partners, fell in love, and mated in a suitably idealistic way torn from the pages of a romance novel. None of the people who spoke had had their status changed from alpha to omega.

“Well, I see a new face here today,” Gadreel says and indicates Dean. “Would you like to share your story?”

Dean looks around the room. Other omegas have been brave, and Dean knows he should share too, but it still feels raw, like a scab he cannot leave alone so he picks at it relentlessly.

“Not today, if that’s alright.” Dean manages weakly, and Gadreel just nods.

“Sometimes sharing your past can be the hardest thing, but it doesn’t make you vulnerable, you know? It makes you strong.”

“I know, but I don’t feel very strong,” Dean says.

“You are strong, you are a survivor.” Gadreel replies. Dean doesn’t know if he knows Dean’s story, but the words cut a swathe through his emotional armor and nick his very being. Dean wants to be strong for Cas, and his Dad and Sammy. Dean doesn’t want them to blame themselves for his weaknesses, for his inability to cope with his new status. It’s time to man up.

“Thank you, Gadreel and everyone…” Dean gestures, “you’ve given me a lot of food for thought today.”

When Gadreel smiles, it’s like the sun coming out after a week of rain. He looks about twelve years old; all his troubles have fled in the wake of the happiness that Dean put there. Dean can’t do anything but smile back.

Cas is waiting where Dean left him. It makes Dean wonder whether he moved from that spot the whole time.

“Hey.” Cas smiles and takes Dean’s arm, it isn’t proprietary but it does center Dean and he smiles back.

“See you next week, Pretty Boy.” Ruby catcalls as she's dragged out of the church by a tall, attractive alpha who growls at Dean. Dean can feel Cas stiffen as the alpha turns, smiles, and winks. Ruby says, “Ooh I love a big, bad alpha.”

“They seem to have an interesting relationship,” Dean states as the couple’s huge muscle car screeches out of the lot.

“Hmmm, that’s one way of putting it,” Cas mutters as he guides Dean to his Prius. Oh, how Dean misses his Impala, Baby. Omegas aren’t allowed to drive; what would happen if they suddenly went into heat? Dean misses driving almost as much as he misses his car. He hopes Sam is looking after her.

Cas drives like an old woman. He obeys the speed limit and all the traffic rules, but at least the journey is relaxing. Cas has to go to the Novak compound for a meeting later. Dean isn’t stupid, he knows the alpha has been slacking off on his duties to take care of his new mate. It sucks but Dean can’t lie, not even to himself, he appreciates it. Having Cas around helps keep Dean out of his own head. Cas reminds him to eat and distracts him when the negative thoughts start to swirl and churn when they pick up speed and chase all the hopeful feelings from his brain.

“Do you want to come with me to the compound?”

Dean really doesn’t, the thought of seeing the rest of the Novak pack fills him with dread, and not a little embarrassment. Last time he saw them at the mating ceremony, Dean had been running on adrenaline and whatever painkillers the hospital had pumped into him. Now sober and self-aware, he isn't sure he could put on a brave face, so he shakes his head and inspects his nails.

Cas doesn’t comment, just drives them back to the apartment. Dean can hear Cas on the phone as he sheds his jacket and makes for the coffee machine. Cas’ voice is a gentle rumble, but Dean doesn’t really care enough to snoop. Whatever Cas is up to, it’s none of Dean’s concern. Recently, Dean isn’t really sure exactly what he should be concerned about. He eats when Cas directs him, he hasn’t cracked a book or watched a television program since he’s moved in here, hasn’t been to the gym, either. Looking down at his midriff, he can’t see any flab, not that it would bother him if he did. Maybe if he was a bit less pretty he wouldn’t have ended up in this situation. Sighing, Dean pours himself a coffee. He may have gone off food, but coffee is still important.

Dean is enjoying his blessed, blessed caffeine when Cas comes into the kitchen area. He looks at Dean with a soft smile on his face.

“When are you off?” Dean asks. He's looking forward to some time to himself. Cas is so supportive and caring, but he’s always just…there!

“Soon,” he answers vaguely as he pours himself a cup of Java’s finest. “Dean, have you thought about what you want to do now?” Cas asks, but he doesn’t seem quite able to meet Dean’s eye.

Dean looks at him with confusion. There isn’t a hell of a lot he can do now. He can’t practice law anymore. There aren’t a lot of jobs omegas can do, and most of the prescribed ones are in the service industry, and Dean served enough coffee while he was in college, thank you very much.

“Not a whole lot of options,” Dean mutters. This conversation is making his stomach churn. The coffee that a moment ago had tasted surely as good as ambrosia, now is about as palatable as battery acid.

“We’ll have to think of something you’ll like,” Cas says sunnily, a big smile cracking his face. It looks so false that Dean just wants to cry.

“Look, I was doing what I wanted to do, and now I’m not. Fucking sitting around looking pretty, or serving some assholes a venti hazelnut latte is not going to fulfill my needs so let’s not have this conversation,” Dean spits out. Fuck, now his head is pounding. As long as he doesn’t have to think about his situation, he can almost cope, but the minute he has to reflect on his future it all goes to hell.

Cas looks distraught, but Dean can’t be responsible for his happiness; he barely manages to keep himself on the right side of suicidal.

“I’m going for a nap.” Dean escapes to his bedroom. At least when he sleeps, he escapes this nightmare.

The bed in Dean’s bedroom is awesome, it’s definitely memory foam, and it’s one of the few pleasures left in Dean’s wilderness of a life. He lets himself drift. His brain is too crazy active to let him sleep, but he feels a heaviness that isn’t uncomfortable and at the edge of his awareness he hears the door; maybe Cas has left. He almost considers getting up to have a look, but that seems like a lot of effort. He thinks he can hear two voices, can make out a few words of the conversation.

“…depressed. Not sure what to do…”

“…Fix this…”

There’s a knock at his door, which jumpstarts Dean’s heart into an uneven rhythm. Shit! Panting hard Dean sits up and shouts.

“What,” he hates being woken, even if it was only from a semi-doze.

A head peeps round the door, floppy hair covering half its face.

“Sammy?” Dean asks, confused. He hasn’t seen his brother or father since the mating, and to be honest he hadn’t really expected to see them again. Well maybe at Inter-pack functions, but certainly not just socially.

“Hey Dean,” Sam says and comes and sits on the bed. Dean can see concern written over Sam’s face in the little wrinkle that appears just above his nose. Dean used to find that cute when it was directed at someone else and not at him. He neither needs nor wants Sam’s concern. “Cas says you’ve been working hard, going to therapy and group.” Sam’s eyes drift down to Dean’s still bandaged wrists. And fuck this, there’s nothing Dean hates more than condescension.

“Working hard?” Dean repeats and he can see Sam trying to interpret his mood. “I have been doing the opposite of working hard, I have been sitting around this apartment looking at four walls, while my ‘husband’” and Dean actually articulated that word by using air quotes, “has been watching me like a hawk.” Dean sighed exasperatedly and rubbed his chin, he could do with a shave but to be honest he couldn’t be bothered.  
“Dean,” Sam whined, “Cas is worried about you, we all are. You seemed to be doing so well after the…” Sam paused and a flush crept up his face “…attack,” he finally settled on. “But obviously you were doing that thing where you pretend everything is okay when clearly it isn’t.” he gestured at Dean and shook his head.

Dean has had more than his share of shit recently and he loves his brother but he doesn’t need to be made to feel even guiltier, so in true Dean Winchester manner he changes the subject.

“Hope you’re looking after my baby.” He says, but that, of course, makes him think of all he has lost again, and his stomach sinks and he closes his eyes and wills the moisture that is collecting there to dry up.

“Dean.” Sam says gently, “Of course I am.”

Sam's voice sounds strange, thick and even before Dean opens his eyes, he knows that Sam is crying. Fuck he's letting his family down. He never wanted to worry Sam, it’s his job to look after him. Even if he can’t actually do that now, the least he can do is pretend that he's happy so that Sam doesn’t worry.

“Sammy, I’m sorry.” Dean offers and Sam looks like Dean punched him.

“No, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for. Dean, we’ll work through this.” Sam smiles tentatively and Dean has had enough.

“No chick flick moments. Bitch.”

Sam’s smile becomes more authentic. “Jerk.”

So, it seems that Cas has arranged for Sam to ‘watch’ him while Cas is away at the Pack House. Dean is both annoyed and comforted. Seeing Sam again is like school holidays and Christmas all melded together. Sam keeps trying to encourage Dean to talk about his feelings, but hell no, there has been far too much of that, so in the end they settle for a Dr. Sexy MD marathon.

“I don’t understand what you see in this show.” Sam had grumbled initially but by the fourth episode, he's loudly rooting for the small, mousy nurse as she tries to attract the super sexy doctor.

“What the fuck dude, can’t he see that she’d be good for him? She’s sweet and sassy and loves the ass off of him.”

“It’s a sad world Sammy, the hot ones always go for the blondes with the boobs.” Dean sighs, turning to look at Sam, and he realizes that he feels lighter; the buzz of negativity has dulled to a small irritating whisper and he smiles. “Thanks for coming over Sammy.”

“Anytime Dean,” Sam pulls him into a hug that Dean finds himself relaxing into. Sam smells like home and safety; Dean wishes more than anything that he could pack up and go home with Sam, but his life is here now, with Cas, for better or worse.

When Cas comes home later, the sun has already set. Dean had watched the sunset from the huge floor to ceiling window in the penthouse. Cas looks tired, his face looks pinched and it is such an unusual look on the man that it worries Dean.

“Hey,” Dean says. “You okay?” and although Dean is looking at Cas he can’t help but notice the pleased look that flits across Sam’s face.”

Cas smiles tiredly, “Yeah, I’m not a fan of meetings, particularly when one member is a dick.”

Dean smiles, he can remember pack meetings that dragged on interminably, there was always one member that wouldn’t agree. God Dean does not miss that one little bit.

“Dean was always the peacemaker,” Sam chips in because he's an awful person. “He could always talk the holdouts down. Dunno how he did it really.” Dean wants to be pissed off but Sam looks so proud and affectionate that he just lets it go.

“Well, we could’ve used your talents today that’s for sure.” Cas smiles and reaches over and kisses Dean on the cheek. Time freezes. Cas seems to process what he has done and Dean is quietly reeling from the odd mix of sensations the fleeting touch of those dry lips has brought. First, there was a strange electric frisson that radiated out and shot down his spine, then there was a strange warmth that settled somewhere around Dean’s heart. It was all very confusing.

Dean being Dean locks those strange feelings away and rejoins, “No omega is ever going to be welcome at a pack meeting, Cas.” This was true to a point, certainly; most traditional packs had no interest in an omega point of view, but some of the more liberal packs had started realizing that they had been wasting an incredible resource by not tapping omega potential. The Winchester pack is one of those, which is another reason that Dean wishes he were back with his birth pack.

“Dean, that’s not true,” Sam replies, using bitch-voice number three.

“No Dean, Sam is right, times are changing, every point of view is valid.” Dean snorts, Cas is plain wrong in his assertion, and even the Winchester pack isn’t that open-minded. “Dean,” Cas sighs.

“I know that’s what you want the world to be like Cas, but it just isn’t. Omegas are treated like shit and their opinions certainly aren’t ‘valued’.” Dean laughs bitterly. “Maybe times are changing, but it’s too damn slow for me.” Dean doesn't want to talk about this anymore, it brings too many undesirable thoughts to the forefront and he's actively trying to be Mr. Positivity. It isn't really going very well.

“Let’s not talk about this anymore,” Dean grumbles.

“But Dean, you need to decide what to do now.” Sam wheedles, bitch-voice number seven, Dean notes.

“What do you suggest I do?” Dean grates out between clenched teeth, because what the absolute fuck. “I can’t practice law, which I fucking love, which is my fucking vocation. So what do you think I should do, become a fucking kindergarten teacher, a nurses assistant? Because God forbid an omega be clever enough to be an actual nurse, and before you start I realize these are valuable professions, they’re just not my fucking profession.” Dean puts his head in his hands and tries to control his breathing.

“Dean,” Sam cajoles and that’s bitch-voice fucking one hundred and twenty-seven and Dean is just done, but before he can lose it completely he feels a hand warm and grounding on his shoulder.

“Sam,” Cas says in that deep, gravelly voice, “maybe now isn’t the time.” No, now isn’t the time, there’s never going to be a good time for this, Dean is so over it, can’t they just leave him alone, he’ll sit around Cas’s flat and watch daytime television, eat candy and get fat. Fuck everything; if the world doesn’t want him in it then he can hide with the best of them, hibernate. If his family doesn’t want Dean to hurt himself then they need to stop showing him what he’s lost.

“But Cas, you said Dean hadn’t got dressed in anything but sweats since…”

“Sammy, I haven’t got any of my clothes here, aside from my mating suit.” Dean blurts out. So what if he’s been wearing Cas’s sweats? It’s not a crime, is it?

“Why don’t you go home and get your stuff?” Sam wrinkles his brow and looks for all the world like he’s seven again. Hell no. There is no way Dean is setting foot in his apartment again. Ever. He just can’t, it would be like seeing the embodiment of everything he had lost. It would be like being able to touch Baby, but not drive her, and Dean is not putting himself through that.

Cas’s hand squeezes his shoulder. “If you want to go home to pick up your things you can. I should’ve thought to pick you up some clothes when I got Luna but it seemed so intrusive to rifle through your stuff,” he says carefully. His blue eyes do not give anything away but Dean suspects Cas knows why he doesn’t want to go home. Dean is loath to admit it to his brother but he knows Sam will just push and push until he gets the truth.

“Sam, I don’t want to go back there because it reminds me of what I have lost.” Almost as if she knows what is going on, Luna butts her head against Dean’s hand. Smiling, Dean continues, “Cas was nice enough to let me have Luna, but I don’t want to see what I’m leaving behind. Perhaps you can go pick me up some bits, just some jeans, tee shirts, and sweaters. That’ll do, don’t need suits or any of that fancy crap.” Exhaling, Dean thinks that maybe paring his life down won’t be an awful thing, sometimes simplicity is its own reward.

“What about your laptop? Phone?” Sam asks and Dean can see that Sam was getting worried again, those wrinkles are taking up residence and Dean doesn’t want his baby brother to be old before his time.

“Nah, I’m good, don’t need any of that.”

“Dean” Cas says, “I think you should have your phone, laptop, and everything else that used to make you happy.”

“Cas.” Dean groans. “I’m pretty sure none of that shit made me happy. The phone and laptop were mainly used for work, and maybe a bit of porn.” Dean quirks a smile, “Yeah but mainly work so won’t be needing them.”

“What about keeping in contact with your family.”

“You’ve got a phone.“ Dean nods at Cas’s landline, not that Sam or Dad have bothered to call him, and Dean doesn't feel at all bitter about that.

“Bring his phone, laptop, and anything else you think he’ll want,” Cas says tiredly. Dean feels a bit of an ass, but that doesn’t stop him muttering.

“Whatever you want alpha.” And Dean feels a perverse pleasure when Castiel flinches.


	7. Chapter 7

Having his things at the apartment is both wonderful and awful. Wonderful because they are his things, it feels good to wear his own jeans and underwear, feel the softness of his washed-out AC/DC tee shirt and smell the familiarity of the fabric softener lingering on his sweaters. It is awful because it makes his living situation all the more real and permanent. Up until this point Dean had some fleeting hope that maybe one day he would be able to go home, his apartment would be just the way he left it, but now he knows that will never happen. When Sam brought his things over, lugging boxes of books and suitcases of clothes, Dean felt almost bereft. He thought about his apartment, empty and dusty, a comfy well-worn sofa, and a memory foam bed all that was left of his real life. Cas is selling his apartment; there is no need to keep it. He said he would put the money in trust for Dean, as he can't hold any money of his own. Really, it’s a fruitless exercise but it still makes Dean feel warm inside.

Cas goes to work and Dean doesn’t. He gets very familiar with daytime television, at least Dr. Sexy MD is on repeat so often, Dean has managed to catch up on the newer episodes and rewatch most of the earlier seasons, but he can’t lie to himself. He's bored, and that is dangerous. Dean’s life used to be full; Dean had worked ten or eleven-hours, sometimes even longer days. He had worked hard, dealt with pack business as well, used the gym every other day, and spent the alternate days running. Now he sits around watching television, or sleeping, avoiding going out even when Cas offers to take him. It's only because his calorie intake is so low that he isn’t putting on some serious fat, but Dean still hasn’t gotten his appetite back. Even with the low-calorie intake his muscles are losing definition, and he's becoming the epitome of skinny-fat, but he can’t find it in him to care. He isn’t looking to impress anybody.

Dean looks down at his ratty sweats, maybe he should get changed, have a shower. He has been mainlining some crappy cooking show for six hours straight, and if he’s honest he can’t remember when he last had a shower. Cas has been so busy at work he has barely seen him for over a week, so he hasn’t been there to judge Dean’s shitty personal hygiene. 

Dean traipses to the shower grumbling to himself, but once he's under the warm spray he actually feels better. He grabs some shower gel, it’s something fruity and herbal, and something about the aroma is soothing. Dean scrubs his skin with a loofah until he tingles, then moves on to his hair. Grabbing some menthol shampoo he washes and rinses then does it again. Hell that feels good, how has he let himself get in such a state. Looking down at his body he feels ashamed, there is very little muscle tone left.As an omega he can’t expect to be built like Sammy, but then even as an alpha he hadn’t managed that level of fitness. He would like to regain some muscle though, not to impress anyone, just so that he feels better about himself. Cas has a small home gym in one of his spare bedrooms and Dean resolves to start using it tomorrow, after all, he has plenty of time.

Switching off the stream of water Dean grabs a towel and briskly dries himself, he manages to catch a glimpse of his face in the bathroom mirror, he looks like hell. Patchy stubble lines his jaw and bags droop below his eyes. Grabbing a razor Dean soaps up his face and drags the blade across the growth until he is clean-shaven. Satisfied Dean heads for his closet and rummages until he finds his favorite jeans. Then it hits him, his breath explodes from his lungs as he collapses to his knees right there in the closet. The jeans were the ones that were the exact same color as Castiel’s eyes. Dean’s memories rush back to that day, they do not pass go and no money is collected. Cas cared for him, Cas helps him in all sorts of little ways, Cas kisses him on the cheek when he comes home from work and Cas tries to make Dean care for himself again. Dean brings the denim up to his face, it is soft and well worn but the color is perfect, just like Cas’s eyes. The realization that Dean is falling in love with his husband hits him as suddenly as a summer rainstorm. Dean squeezes his eyes shut so tightly he can see flashing stars of light, this can’t be happening. Dean can barely cope with his fucked up half-life, he can’t cope with loving someone too. What is he going to do?

Luckily Cas is out of the apartment a lot at the moment, something is going on with the Novak pack and whatever it is isn’t making the alpha happy. At least the absence allows Dean to come to terms with his feelings, or at least to brood on them.

‘I’m an adult, for fuck's sake,’ he thinks to himself, although he knows he hasn’t been acting like one. He has been lying around feeling sorry for himself, thinking about all the things he had lost, and yes he had lost a lot. Not just physical items like his apartment and car, but also his job and place in society, but Sam and Cas are right. He can’t just sit around watching soap operas for the rest of his life. He needs a plan, he is good at planning and using his mind for something other than sulking over his lot in life and obsessing over his potential feelings for his husband sill surely be a good thing.

Dean doesn’t want to dissect how he is feeling for Cas. He has never developed romantic feelings for anyone in the past. He loves his family and has a deep affection for the small circle of friends he has but has never felt anything like this. He wonders whether it’s just gratitude for the way Cas has helped him, after all Dean has been through a lot and maybe it’s normal to start having screwed up feelings for someone in those circumstances. After all, there is a name for it when patients fall in love with their doctors and therapists, transference or something, yeah this was just transference. Cas had been nice to Dean when Dean was at his lowest ebb and Dean has made this into something it isn’t. Dean doesn’t have any experience with feelings and shit, he is just grateful that’s all. Anyone would feel the same. Just because Dean can’t stop looking at those stupid jeans and seeing Cas’s blue eyes, that doesn’t mean anything. Anyway it isn’t like Dean could really be in love with anyone; he doesn’t like sex. He never wanted to have sex again so even if he was in love he would have to rein it in, but those sweet kisses on the cheek, he was starting to really like those. 

Dean switches on his laptop; it is the first time in almost two months he has booted it up. The home screen still shows the picture of Dean, Sammy, and his Dad all standing outside John’s ranch house, the Impala is parked on the drive and Dean is unlocking the door while smiling at Sam, John’s hand is on Sam’s shoulder. It’s a candid snap that had been taken by Bobby who was trying out a new camera. The carefree look on Dean’s face makes his heart twinge, but Dean locks that emotion away and opens his browser and Googles ‘suitable jobs for omegas’.

Ninety-seven million responses, a lot suggesting the caring professions but there are others recommending such disparate trades as waitressing to administration. Several links lead to recruitment websites that Dean clicks just to see what is out there and after reading what feels like five hundred adverts for baristas he hits pay dirt.

Wanted: legal assistant for Omega Justice Services. Omega preferred, will work in a small team investigating injustices against omegas. Previous legal experience appreciated but not essential. Please note that although we are a small team we are finding our voice. We have recently reversed the first circuit decision on Fletcher vs Doe and are actively looking for other Omega injustices to appeal/prosecute. Please apply below.

Dean doesn’t think twice, he tidies up his resume and sends it with a cover email and then Googles Fletcher vs Doe. The case was particularly shitty. The omega, only known by the pseudonym, Omega Doe, had been in an arranged marriage to Gordon Fletcher for seven years, during which time he had birthed seven children. Dean clenched his butt just thinking about that. The omega had been fifteen when they married and at age 21 he had taken a kitchen knife and stabbed his husband to death in what the prosecution had described as a hormone fuelled rage. He had been sentenced to life in prison, the courts had never sentenced an omega to death but the Judge had said that he had seriously considered that as an option. On appeal, it had transpired that Doe had not wanted the marriage but as an omega, he had no choice. Gordon had been twenty years older than him and abusive from the start. Doe had been innocent and a virgin, Gordon had raped him when he had not willingly gone to his alpha’s bed and then kept him imprisoned and pregnant, beating him often until one day the omega had snapped and killed his abuser. The straw that had broken Doe’s back had been the alpha’s threat to give away the young twins he had just given birth to, for some reason Gordon thought they would be omega’s and he didn’t want omega children. Dean scratched his head and sighed, it wasn’t even an unusual story. There were a lot of alphas out there with traditional ideas of how an omega should be treated. If the shoe had been on the other foot and Gordon had killed his omega then there probably wouldn’t even have been a trial. That was how fucked the world had become. Luckily Omega Doe is now living in witness protection with all his pups. He is one omega who is living in relative safety thanks to Omega Justice Services and Dean wants to be part of that.

Just as Dean is going to close the laptop and go and make some dinner his email pings. It is a response to his application.

Dear Dean, your resume is impressive and we would love to meet with you. Please understand that due to your new status we cannot employ you as an attorney but we really think you could be an asset to our organization. Please call Meg Masters on 0777-922-2126 to arrange a meeting.

Dean smiles; he knows what the email means. They want him but with the proviso that he would be doing lawyer work for assistant pay, omega assistant pay at that. He would have made more as an alpha barista than as an omega legal assistant but then making coffee rarely changed the world but maybe the Omega Justice Services could.

Dean knows he should tell Cas before he makes arrangements to meet Meg, especially as he isn’t sure how Cas feels about Dean leaving the apartment by himself. There is nothing to say omegas can’t go out unaccompanied, but it is the exception rather than the rule. There is also the niggling doubt in the back of Dean’s mind, he is a newly turned omega and he has yet to have his first heat. Denial is a wonderful thing but Dean knows it is going to suck on a monumental scale. He doesn’t have a lot of experience with omegas but he has heard horror stories. There is no reason to believe his heat will happen the first time he leaves the apartment alone, so Dean sets up the meeting for the following day for eleven o’clock.

Dean defrosts some ground beef and starts making spaghetti and meatballs. He hasn’t cooked since he moved in and it feels strangely comforting, it feels normal and maybe Dean deserves a little bit of normal. Dean isn’t a Cordon Bleu chef or anything but he's pretty good if he says so himself and although Cas only had dried herbs the sauce tastes fine. He's putting the finishing touches on the meal as the door opens and Cas stumbles through looking exhausted. Whatever is going on at work is taking it out of him. He sniffs the air and looks confused as he enters the kitchen area.

“Hello Dean, are you cooking?” Cas furrows his brow and tilts his head in a way that Dean finds interminably cute.

“Yes, you didn’t have a lot in so I improvised.”

Cas wanders into the kitchen and looks at the steaming pan of meatballs and looks at Dean like he's the second coming. “You can cook.”

Dean nods, he's going to add a disclaimer but Cas looks so impressed and it’s been a while since he’s felt warmth in his belly purely from a compliment.

“I think I’ll keep you,” Cas says smiling as he drops a kiss onto Dean’s forehead. Cas’s words cut a maw into Dean’s being. It was a joke, probably, but it wounds none the same. Cas is watching Dean intently and realizes almost immediately what he said.

“Dean, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that as it sounded.”

Dean sighs, “I know Cas. Come on let’s eat before it gets cold.” One step forward, two steps back.

Dean knows he needs to tell Cas about the meeting, but every time he thinks about doing it his breath catches and his palms prickle with sweat. Jesus, get a grip.

“Cas,”

“Hmmm,” Cas replied distractedly as he scoops the last of his meatballs.

“So…” Fuckity, fuck, fuck. Dean takes a deep breath. “So, we haven’t really talked about… well, much of anything so I don’t know your feelings on omegas working outside the home, or traveling alone or anything really.” Dean stops breathless.

Cas reaches over and takes his hand.

“Breathe, Dean.” He smiles at the omega guilelessly. “Just tell me what you want.”

So Dean does, he tells him about the advert, the emails, and the meeting. Cas looks proud.

“Thank you, Dean. I’ll get my driver to take you to the meeting.” Dean feels his heart sink; of course, Cas doesn’t want him to travel alone, another part of his independence crumbling away. “I would let you go by public transport but it is unreliable and there are a lot of unscrupulous alphas out there and I don’t want to subject you to that. Of course, it would be better if you were allowed to drive,” he says pensively. “Ah well moves are afoot, we’ll have to see what congress allows but for the meantime, we can sort something out. I think you can be a great asset to the Omega Justice Services.”

“Thanks Cas.” Dean quietly admits to himself that he is relieved, he had been nervous about venturing out alone. Vulnerability is new to him, and he doesn’t like it. He had also been anxious to discuss the possible job with Cas, Dean had seriously not known what he would have done if Cas had said no. It would have ruined their tentative relationship; Dean feels like a huge weight has been lifted and that he can breathe again. He offers Cas an authentic smile.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Cas’s driver is a short, British man called Crowley. He's very unpleasant and his eyes roam over Dean in a way that makes him feel dirty, he can’t believe Cas thinks traveling with this man is safer than public transport.

“So you’re Cas’s new bitch then.” Dean doesn’t bother to reply, even before he was turned into an omega he had dealt with insults regularly, insults dressed up as compliments were the worst. He was pretty, had a ‘purdy’ mouth, cocksucking lips. He’d heard them all. Dean gets in the car and tunes the offensive little man out. It just isn’t worth giving him the time of day and Dean has more important things to think about, he is nervous about his meeting. He had always worked with the pack previously so really this is his first interview of any import. He had worked at a coffee shop at college but his interview there had been pretty much ‘when can you start’?

Omega Justice Services is housed in a small office off a rundown strip mall, next to a minimart and a donut shop that Dean definitely won’t be patronizing anytime soon. There are several lazy flies moving from pastry to pastry making Dean’s stomach lurch.

“Wait here,” Dean says as he leaves the car. He doesn’t catch what Crowley says but he’s sure it isn’t flattering. As Dean enters the small storefront a bell announces his arrival and to his surprise he sees Charlie manning the reception area.

Dean raises an enquiring brow.

“Yo Dean, when I saw the name I hoped it was you.”

“You work here?” Dean feels quite shocked, but then Charlie had said her alpha was pretty lenient.

“Yeah for five years now. I love it. Ellen and Meg let me help with cases and everything.” Charlie smiled a sunny, enthusiastic smile; her red hair gleamed in the morning sunlight.

“Well, you clearly know why I’m here,” Dean said rubbing the back of his neck. He hadn’t slept well last night and he can feel the tiredness settle over him like a heavy blanket.

Charlie holds a finger up and pushes the intercom.

“Mr. Winchester is here.”

“Send him right in.” A disembodied female voice replies.

Charlie gestures at the door and Dean takes a deep, settling breath. He wipes his hands on his pants before he knocks and enters. Two women are seated around a small table; they both stand and wave him over. The taller, older lady introduces herself as Ellen; she smiles warmly and takes his hand. The younger lady is pretty, round-faced with sparkly mischievous eyes and she introduces herself as Meg. 

“Hello Dean, we’re so glad you got in touch, short of you being psychotic or a complete douchebag then we want you,” Ellen says with a grin, which Dean can’t help but return.

“Well I can’t promise anything ladies,” Dean responds with a smirk, falling back on years of casual flirting. Despite his lack of interest in sex, Dean had always found that an easy manner helped grease the wheels of negotiation and old habits die-hard.

Meg chuckled. “Easy tiger, we’re both taken and as I understand so are you.”

“I sure am,” Dean admits, “sorry to disappoint.” Ellen offers Dean a chair and he sits down. He reels in his playful side to concentrate on the matters at hand.

“Sorry I’m a little nervous and overcompensate by…”

Ellen chirps in, “Don’t worry Dean, is it alright if we call you Dean?”

Dean nods in assent.

“I’ll tell you a little about ourselves.” Ellen continues, “I started the organization seven years ago when my daughter was gang-raped.” Dean gasps. Reaching over he took Ellen’s hand, there was probably protocol somewhere that said he shouldn’t touch her, she is an alpha, but Dean can tell by her scent that she is mated, and she seems so distressed, he offers her the only comfort he can.

“I’m so sorry Ellen.” Dean can feel the chill down his spine; the circumstances were horrifyingly similar to his own.

Ellen smiled sadly, “Thank you, Dean. Yes, my Joanna would be twenty-five now. She was such a sweet thing, beautiful and tiny, but full of spirit. We didn’t know whether she would turn out an omega or an alpha, but omega it was. They caught her on her way home from class, there were five of them, took turns and ruined her, at least that is what she thought. She never got over it and took her life a month later. Those boys are still walking the streets, free as birds. The law says she was fair game as an unmated omega on the verge of a heat out alone.” Ellen angrily rubbed a tear from her eye. “The law should protect the most vulnerable in society, but it doesn’t. The law victim blames! It makes me so angry.” She stops with a short exhale and looks at Dean.

“I’ve only been an omega for a brief while and I already know that the law sucks,” Dean says wryly. “I’m sorry for your loss, your daughter deserved better, a lot of omegas I have met deserve better.”

The other alpha, Meg nods. “You’re both right and this organization hopes to do this. We are small, but we have sharp teeth and we are tenacious. Our problems lie in the fact that we have little financial support so we rely on donations, which is difficult as a lot of alphas like the status quo and they tend to be the ones with money. Even Betas like the fact that they aren’t the bottom of the pecking order. So what I’m trying to say is that we have trouble getting money. We also rely mainly on volunteers for our legal representation. Obviously you won’t be able to go to court for us but we’re hoping that you can do research, we know you’ll be a great asset. I know it’s a step down for you and the pay will be shit but we’re hoping you’ll come on board.”

Dean’s head is buzzing, mainly because of Meg’s stream of consciousness, but he can understand what she's saying, their budget sucks and they rely on the kindness of others, Dean’s help would give them an advantage and although they won’t be able to pay him much (not that any salary would actually be his – it’ll go to Castiel) Dean is definitely in.

“I’ve only really dealt with pack law, not state or constitutional,” Dean advises.

“You’re a trained lawyer and that is better than we have at the moment.”

“Then where do I sign? Or more importantly where does my alpha sign.” Because of course, Dean has no legal standing. He twitches his lips drolly in something that can’t really be called a smile, even when Dean starts to feel a bit better about his new life he finds reminders of the suckiness everywhere. Dean is sure Cas will be happy for him to work with the Omega Justice Services, even though Cas hasn’t been vocal about how he feels about omega rights, Dean just knows Cas.

Meg and Ellen leave Dean alone in the office/conference room and Dean dials Cas. Sam had brought Dean’s cell phone over from the apartment with his clothes, today was the first time Dean has switched it on and a multitude of messages had come in, which Dean summarily ignored. Dean only bothered with the phone today so that he could be in contact with Cas, he knew if he was offered the job that Cas would need to agree and sign the contract. Dean was a grown-ass man but he was now treated like a child by merit of a foul act of violence. Cas had given Dean a surly look as he had grabbed the phone, put his number in it, and then set a selfie as the contact picture. The photo makes Dean smile, Cas had just come home from work, he was still in his favorite blue suit, tie slightly askew, trench coat open and hair ruffled. He looked like a little boy doing dress-up.

“Hello, Dean.” Cas is always so formal; Dean smiles. If someone asked him, Dean would find it really difficult to define their relationship. Cas is his mate, and slowly he is becoming his friend and even confidante. They are doing things in reverse, it is weird, but somehow it is working.

“Hey,, Cas, so they’ve offered me the job. If you're okay with it you need to sign the contract for me.” Dean rubs his temple, he tries so hard not to think about how much his life has changed, but small things like this just bring it all home to him.

“Of course Dean, I will come down in my lunch hour and sign it.”

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean says in a small voice. This is a good thing, a new job that will keep his mind off things and also help omega rights. Not only that but it helped prove to Dean that Castiel wants Dean to have a life outside of the home. Dean feels warmth grow somewhere around his midsection; he isn’t going to say his heart because life isn’t some romantic comedy, but Cas always surprises him in a good way.

After Dean explains that Cas will be down later to sign the contract and agree to terms, Meg and Ellen spend some time telling him about their active cases. Their main case involves a young male omega that had been assaulted in the high school bathroom, and had later been forced to mate his rapist; the poor kid had tried to kill himself twice and was currently living at the Omega center having been taken away from his mate by Omega Protective Services. His mate is trying to get the omega released back into his care but Meg and Ellen have taken his case and are focusing on a dual-pronged attack, firstly trying to make sure that he never has to return to his abusive mate and secondly suing the Los Angeles Education board for failing to protect a vulnerable pupil. Complications arose because the Omega was pregnant and about to birth a child, Dean would never think of human offspring as pups that was just derogatory.

“We need to make sure that the kid never has to go back to his rapist.” Meg states. “But the first circuit wanted to release him back into that man’s ‘care’. Ben will kill himself if that happens. I just know it.” She groans and buries her head in her hands.

Dean considers what he's going to say carefully but then realizes he has to trust someone. “If the worst happens and that is what the appeal court decides…” he sighs and searches for the right words. “Isn’t there some way to help the kid disappear?” He raises an eyebrow questioningly.

Ellen looks around shiftily, “Dean, you could get in serious trouble for just saying something like that. You don’t know us, and I know this…” she gestures at Dean, and he suspects she means his changed designation, “but you have to be really careful about what you say. I don’t want to say more than that at this stage, but I will say that we will do everything in our power to make sure that our clients are safe, both physically and mentally. Everything.” She smiles and nods as if sharing an inside joke and Dean can feel the weight caused by the similarities of the horrific story ease slightly. He is so lucky with Cas; Dean doesn’t think he’s been as appreciative as he should have been.

“Fuck, talking to you all today has made me realize how lucky I have been, Cas has been nothing but respectful and caring and I’ve been a complete dick, miserable and ungrateful.”

“Dean.” Ellen says, taking his hand, “No one expects you to be a happy-clappy joyful person, life has handed you lemons, you’ve just got to learn the recipe for lemonade.”

Dean smiles dryly, she isn’t wrong; today was exacerbating his emotional scars and upsetting his attempts at compartmentalization. Dean takes a deep, cleansing breath, he is going to have to toughen up and get used to this, and today was just the first step.

When Cas arrives Dean notices that he still has that frazzled look, there is definitely something going on at work.

After introductions Cas says, “I don’t want Dean to work fulltime, he still has other …commitments.” Dean’s eyes snap to Cas’s. What commitments? Dean isn’t overly bothered about not working fulltime, he just needs – something, but by the same token, he has never liked being told what to do.

“Commitments?”

Cas lowers his voice but obviously Meg and Ellen can still hear him. “Your therapy and group,” he says. Cas can maintain eye contact like a pro, he would have made an exceptional cop. His eyes are so blue; Dean stares back as Cas continues. “I don’t think you should do both on the same day as I understand they can be very… emotional.” He says this as if emotions are something other people have and something Cas can’t quite grasp.

“Okay.” Dean agrees and Cas blinks at last giving away his nervousness, or maybe he just expected Dean to argue the issue, but Dean has decided to pick his battles carefully. Cas seems to be on his side so he will work with the alpha to improve his lot as much as he can.

Dean has a therapy session on Tuesdays and group on Thursdays so that means he can work Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. It's not ideal, but it’s a start. He’s on the frontline helping others and he’s sure that this will help him too.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Dean does not enjoy therapy but he hopes that it will help him in the long run. No gain without pain and all that. Cas drops him off to the therapy session on his way to the Novak pack compound, apparently, Crowley will pick Dean up after. Dean can hardly wait for that joy.

When Dean enters Benny’s office the big man smiles at him warmly. Dean doesn’t know him well but the alpha seems to genuinely care and Dean can’t lie, he's fucked up and really wants to sort his life out, so he’s going to start giving therapy his all, even if Benny tells Cas what’s said, it’s not like he has a lot of privacy at the moment.

“I hear congratulations are in order.” Benny starts. So Cas has been in touch with the therapist. Dean wants to feel pissed off but he knows that Cas is really worried about him so he gives him the benefit of the doubt.

“Yeah got a job, minimum wage for doing an attorney’s work,” Dean grumbles, but he’s not really annoyed, it was better than he hoped, it's just society as a whole that sucks.

“Yeah you’re downplaying your success Brother, you’ve got to learn to celebrate the small accomplishments in life.”

“Yeah I know, I am happy about it. I needed something other than soap operas and chat shows in my life.” Dean agrees reluctantly, he isn’t sure why he doesn’t want to seem too happy about his new job, why he is minimizing it. “I haven’t started yet but I think it’s going to be a challenge and there’s the smallest possibility that I can be at the forefront of actual changes in omega rights and that is important to me now. I just wish it had seemed important before.” Although Dean had never discriminated against omegas he had certainly spared very little thought for their rights or lack thereof. Dean had been the walking talking embodiment of alpha privilege and the thought of it makes him feel sick.

“I can practically see you beating yourself up. I imagine it’s because you now have a whole new perspective on life. Brother you have to learn to be kind to yourself. Forgive yourself for whatever petty wrongs you think you have done.”

Dean finds himself nodding. It makes sense; Dean does blame himself for a lot of things that weren’t really his fault. He blames himself for letting himself get into that situation with Lucifer and Balthazar, although if he thought about it rationally how the hell would he have known that they were sexual psychopaths.

“Dean, do you remember what I said about if you ever found yourself in a situation where you are blaming yourself for something or even having bad negative thoughts, the sorts of thought where you might want to hurt yourself, I wanted you to think this – if you were giving advice to Sammy if he was in your situation, would you agree that he was to blame? What would you say to him?”

Yes, Dean did remember Benny saying that, and it was good advice, so how come every time bad thoughts invaded Dean’s mind he forgot Benny’s suggestions and his brain just started spiraling unhelpful thoughts and feelings.

“Yeah, that’s good advice, it’s just that sometimes, pretty much all the time actually, I forget in the heat of the moment,” Dean admits, rubbing his temple, which is starting to ache.

“I know Dean, but the only way to make these tips work is practice, practice, practice. Keep trying until it is second nature. They will help, it just takes time.”

Dean feels sweat prickle at his brow and his insides churn. He suddenly has an awful thought, could he possibly be going into heat? Cas hadn’t mentioned anything about his scent, aren’t alpha’s supposed to be able to tell when omegas are going into heat? Dean had never really noticed but that might be because he had never really had a huge interest in sex and had only been around a few omegas in his time.   
“B-B-Benny” Dean stutters, his stomach drops, and the pain in his head increases. 

“It’s alright Brother,” Benny says, putting his hand on Dean’s shoulder comfortingly. Benny picks up the phone and dials as Dean bends double as the pain sears through his innards. Fuck, if this is a Heat then he doesn’t want anything to do with it. He wonders whether he can get a hysterectomy like some women do when their periods are really painful. He doubts it as the government is a bastard when it comes to omega health. He can vaguely hear Benny talking but the words make no sense. Sweat pours off Dean’s body and worse than that he can feel slick leaking from his ass. The humiliation never ends, Dean thinks.

Dean’s world narrows to the pains in his stomach and the steady flow of slick from his rear. He isn't really aware when Cas takes his arm and helps him to stand. Dean leans in and loses himself in Cas’s rich aroma, it’s darker today, autumn leaves after a rainstorm, mixed with a deeper muskier scent, Dean wonders if this is how Cas smells when he's aroused. He smells really, really good, Dean revels in the scent, bathes his senses in it, and loses himself in its deep spiciness.

Dean can hear Cas’s deep voice; it soothes his frayed nerves but Dean can’t quite make sense of the words, his body is on fire. Every nerve ending is firing, some causing pain, others a weird sort of pleasure; his senses are overloaded and something has to give.

Cas is in the back of the car with Dean so someone else must be driving, maybe Crowley. That would explain the pungent, unpleasant scent underlying Cas’ own. The aroma smelt like sour milk and rotting fruit and cut through Dean’s haze of arousal. Dean buries his face in the crook of Cas’ neck and breathes, letting the smell of his mate overpower all others, it was both comforting and arousing. Dean’s cock is half hard in his pants but he doesn’t feel the overwhelming need for sex that he had believed omegas Heat caused. Maybe it was because Dean had never really been a sexual being, sure he had jerked off in the shower but that was a biological need, a stress reliever. Now he feels a pleasant thrum of arousal, he just hopes it won’t get any worse. He doesn’t want to be a slave to his biology and if he is ever going to pursue a sexual relationship with his mate then he wants it to be because it is something that he genuinely desires and not just a hormone-induced farce.

Cas settles Dean onto his bed and helps him strip off his sweat-soaked clothing, his touch is impersonal but Dean still feels his cock twitch when Cas removes his shorts, he would feel embarrassed but he's too overawed by sensory overload.

“Shower?” Cas says and it takes a while and a repetition, “Shower?” for the meaning to permeate Dean’s addled brain and then he nods; a shower sounds good.

Cas has the water temperature just right, not jarringly cold but tepid and it feels wonderful, cooling Dean’s overly warm skin. As he cools, Dean’s brain seems to come back online, Cas is in the shower with him, he's still wearing his underwear but Dean can see the hard line of his cock through the mostly transparent material. Surprisingly, Dean doesn’t feel fear at Cas’ arousal, he supposes that Cas is as much a prisoner of his own designation as Dean is. Alphas are hardwired to respond to omega’s heats, it is a biological imperative.

Cas’ touch is detached so it doesn’t make Dean feel scared; he looks up into Cas’ eyes, those stupid denim blue eyes, Cas is good looking, there’s no denying that, but more than that he's kind and fair and Dean is starting to get confused about his feelings for the man. Cas soaps Dean’s body with the fruity smelling shower gel scrubbing off the layer of sweat and making Dean feel human again. His touch doesn’t linger but still leaves a trail of sensual flashes in its wake. Cas quickly cleans Dean’s genitals and then turns his attention to Dean’s ass crack. Dean knows he must be a mess down there but he's too far-gone to be embarrassed. Cas’ fingers clean him gently, running around his pucker cleaning away the slick but causing more to leak. Dean moans and leans his head to rest on Cas’s shoulder, Cas’ other arm closes around Dean’s shoulder and pulls him flush against his body. He can feel Cas kiss his hair and a groan escapes unprovoked, it feels right, for the first time ever to be in someone else’s arms, to feel Cas’ hands roam over his body, to feel the alpha’s finger penetrate his body. Somewhere in the deepest recesses of Dean’s mind, behind doors locked by his biology, Dean knows he would hate this if he was in his right mind but at this moment in time it feels perfect. The finger is a warm intrusion, massaging his insides in a way that feels surprisingly good, then Cas hooks his finger just right and Dean’s senses explode in a cascade of fireworks and he comes with a shudder. Dean pants against Cas’ shoulder as he comes back to himself. He feels as Cas removes his finger and suddenly it all seems too much. Dean pulls back and looks at Cas who seems as shocked as he is.

“Dean, I’m sorry.” Cas pulls away, leaving Dean feeling chilled although the water pounding down on him is warm. Dean’s body moves of it’s own volition following Cas and molding himself back into Cas’ side.

“I don’t want to think. Please, Cas. Just hold me.” There’s plenty of time to think about all this later.

Dean has read stories (porn) about how omegas beg for cock during their heat. Dean wants touch, needs the touch of his alpha. He enjoyed the feeling of penetration during the shower and really relished the orgasm but he doesn’t want nor need to be fucked. He’s a broken omega and Cas is stuck with him.

Cas dries Dean and lays him on the bed. Discarding his own wet underwear, he joins Dean and snuggles close until they are almost sharing breaths. Dean feels the weight of tiredness weighing him down but warring with that is the low-level thrum of arousal.

“Dean,” Cas sighs, his voice so gentle and low it’s merely a breeze ruffling Dean’s hair. Cas’ hand moves down Dean’s back in a slow caress igniting nerve endings and making Dean’s breath catch. “Dean, please tell me what you want.” Cas’ voice sounds strangled as if it pains him not to just take.  
Dean wants to demand Cas fucks him, but he knows he would regret that later; he’s not that far gone yet.

“Please,” Dean sobs, “I’m sorry Cas, please just hold me, I don’t want that.”

Cas soothes Dean by running his hand up and down Dean’s arm; it’s a soothing non-sexual gesture that calms the omega without riling him up. Dean knows that it wouldn’t take much, a hand near his groin or his ass, and Dean would be begging for Cas’ knot. Damn, just thinking about being filled like that, Dean knows it would cure his heat, satisfy him in the way that he needs. Dean breathes through the wave of desire that grabs him. He doesn’t want to give in to his baser omega instincts, but he knows before the end of his heat Cas will either knot him or Dean will be begging for it.

“Dean tell me now while you still have control, do you want me to knot you?” Cas looked pained, like every word out of his mouth hurt.

Dean looks up at Cas’ blue eyes that are always so expressive, now he can see the worry in them. He knows that Cas is aware of his answer; he just wants Dean to reiterate it.

“No, Cas I’m sorry.” Dean moans.

“I know, but I had to check.” Cas turns Dean in his arms so that he becomes the little spoon; Cas pulls the omega tight against his body and soothes Dean with his hands until he relaxes. Cas kisses Dean’s neck sending gooseflesh whooshing down his spine. Dean moans and feels his excitement ratchet. Dean’s never been a sexual creature but he imagines this is what it feels like – being out of control – allowing your body to be in charge. To want and take at will. It’s strange but at this moment in time Dean doesn’t mind it, he wants to kiss and bite, lick and thrust, he wants to let go. Dean moans and grinds his ass back against Cas’s groin and hears a mirroring groan, Dean smiles and enjoys the feeling of Cas hardening against him.

“Dean, you’re not in your right mind and you will regret this if we take it further. You’ll hate me and I’m only human.” Cas whimpers and tries to scooch back on the bed away from Dean’s suggestive movements but Dean’s treacherous body tries to follow him, even though the tiny part of his brain that is still functioning tries desperately to stop.

“Dean,” Cas gasps, pulling away and sitting up. Dean feels bereft and chills run down his body as he misses Cas’ heat. Dean wants more than anything to reach out and pull Cas back in but he doesn’t; instead he pulls his knees up and wraps his arms around himself. Dean can feel his eyes burn and overflow in misery. Being an omega sucks.

“Get out.” Dean snarls. “If you’re not going to help me then leave.”

Dean’s heat lasts four days. Four days of hell, of sweating and need, of pain and indignity. Cas brought Dean food and water, and embarrassingly, toys. Dean, to his eternal humiliation, had ended up using them, one hand stripping his dick roughly while thrusting a large purple dildo up his ass. Fun times.

Dean turns the water temperature up, it’s now bordering on scalding but it still isn’t hot enough to wash away the shame. He had been horrible to Cas, firstly trying to manipulate the alpha into knotting him and then screaming at him to leave. Dean isn’t entirely sure how he is going to face Cas, but as they live in the same apartment there is no way around it.

Dean scrubs his body roughly, scouring away the days of sweat and slick. Cas had bought him some body wash that smells strongly of citrus, Dean thanks the Gods that Cas didn’t go in for that omega wash that ‘let their natural scent through’. That would have been horrendous. Finally, Dean thoroughly washes his hair, cleansing his scalp meticulously until he feels like something bordering on human again.

Once he is dry, Dean dresses in clean sweats and a loose tee. Sitting on the bed, Dean buries his head in his hands and groans. He has to do this. Dean isn’t too sure of the time, it’s daylight out so there’s a possibility that Cas is at work, but he seemed to work from home while Dean had his heat, so he may be here. Dean knows he has to face him but he really doesn’t want to. Dean isn’t a coward though, so with a final deep breath, Dean stands, rubs his hands on his pants, and opens the bedroom door.

Cas is at the kitchen table, coffee in one hand, and tapping at his laptop with the other. He looks up at Dean and smiles, there is no ire there and Dean finds the tension he’s been holding in his neck dissipates.

“Hello Dean,” Cas says in that deep, grumbly voice, Dean always finds it a toss-up between relaxing and arousing.

“Hey Cas.” Dean heads to the coffee pot and fixes himself a cup, then sits at the table opposite his alpha.  
Cas smiles at Dean over his coffee cup, and then coughs and puts it down.

“Dean,” he says and his eyes flit around the room, “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, and you can always say no, this is just a suggestion…”

Dean feels sweat prickle at his neck, and he wishes Cas would just get on with whatever he has to say.

Cas coughs and then continues. “Dean, would you like to go onto suppressants?” Cas finally meets Dean’s eyes and like a puppet whose strings have been cut Dean falls back into the chair, all tension released.

“Yes.” Dean squeaks because he doesn’t want to go through that again, ever. If it had even been a legal option for him to get them himself he would already be on them. “Thanks Cas.” Because only alphas are allowed to mess with omega’s reproductive systems, the world is just that fucked up.

After the visit to the Omega Reproductive specialist Dean feels a lot happier. The doctor had explained that suppressants would also mean that he couldn’t get pregnant and even though he isn’t planning on doing the horizontal tango anytime soon he is still inordinately relieved by that.

Dean notices Cas watching him, “I should have thought about suppressants sooner.”

“What?” Dean replies, folding and unfolding the bag containing his precious pills.

“If I’d realized how happy they would make you.” Cas smiles and turns his concentration back to driving.


	10. Chapter 10

“I think I should take you on a date,” Castiel says apropos of nothing. Dean chokes on his coffee.

“Fuck, that went down the wrong way,” he gasps. Perhaps if he ignores Cas’s statement then life could continue in the new tentative normal that Dean is trying to get used to.

“Dean.” Cas persists. “A date.”

Dean can feel his heart thumping, these early morning shocks are not good for his health.

“A date.” Dean sighs. What was Cas thinking? “I don’t date.”

“Well you’re mated now so maybe as your mate I should take you out on a date.”

Dean rubs his temple, damn his blood pressure must be spiking, the pain was increasing. “Cas,” he says, and then trailed off, what could he say? He and Cas were mated in name only. He got the suspicion that Cas wanted more but he never pushed, never even hinted. So was he now trying to woo Dean? If so he didn’t have an angel’s hope in hell.

“Date,” Cas affirms and really there was only one answer.

“Okay.” Then Dean gave Cas a suspicious look; Cas wasn’t exactly what you call an open book, “what sort of date? Not to one of those restaurants where omegas have to kneel or wear collars or shit?”

“No Dean, I’d like to think you know me better than that by now.” Cas huffs, and the thing was Dean did. Cas has been nothing but kind and supportive, but Dean lives in perpetual fear of Cas changing his mind, treating him like the surly omega he had turned out to be. “I was thinking more of burgers and a movie.” Cas shrugs and Dean feels an overwhelming urge to hug the man. Cas is always impassive on the surface but sometimes Dean can see a glimmer of something lurking, like today he seems almost nervous like he’s asking a beau on a first date. If Dean could arrange a perfect date with either a friend or a lover then it would be beer, burgers, and a movie, and as the old song goes, two out of three ain’t bad.

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” Dean says and his face heats, he’d better not be blushing like a bride. Bloody omega body chemistry, no way he would be blushing if he were still an alpha, even if a rumpled, blue-eyed man showed an interest in him. In fact, had he still been an alpha Dean knows he would have shrugged off the suggestion with good humor and not thought of it again. Dean doesn’t like sex; Dean is never having sex again, at least not willingly, at least that was the plan, the plan is getting fuzzy, but even so there’s is no need for anyone to date him. Cas however seems to have other ideas and he looks so earnest there in his blue suit and tie, big blue eyes almost the same color, and ruffled hair that Dean doesn’t have the willpower to say no, and truth be told he really doesn’t want to.

“We don’t have to dress up or anything?” Because Dean has priorities, skewed priorities, but priorities all the same.

Cas quirks an eyebrow as if to say what?

“Well,” Dean continues gruffly, “I kinda like how I don’t have to wear suits anymore.” Even while working at the Omega Justice Services Dean hasn’t had to don a suit and tie, it is a liberating experience for someone who had spent much of his professional life in one.

“Beer and a movie Dean. I think we can leave the tuxes in the closet.” Cas leans forward and with a cute smile on his lips he kisses Dean. It’s barely a touch, more a brief sharing of breath, but Dean can feel it all the way to his toes and he can’t help but return the smile.

So many things could have gone wrong with ‘date night’. There were so many possibilities for failure Dean thought. There could’ve been asshole alphas scenting him, or verbally abusing him. Dean could have had a panic attack, he doesn’t go out much and never anywhere as crowded as a movie theatre, however the date bordered on perfect. Dean wears his favorite old jeans, they are held together by a wish and a prayer but they are so comfortable, the aged material is softer against his skin than any fancy designer suit Dean had ever owned. He pairs them with an old AC/DC tee and a ratty pair of converse he found in the back of his closet. Cas is similarly dressed in vintage jeans but he combines him with a distressed stripy sweater, his hair is disheveled and Dean thinks he has never looked better.

They stop at a small local bar before the movie and as the hour is early there are only a few patrons much to Dean’s relief. The last thing he wants to deal with is some alphas flinging insults in his direction. Not that Dean had particularly experienced that joy, but he had seen it happen on occasion and to his eternal sadness he hadn’t got involved, just let the assholes verbally abuse a couple of unattended omega’s for no reason apart from their designation. Dean’s seeing things from the other end now so maybe that is cosmic karma, fuck his life.

Cas is the perfect gentleman. He leads Dean to a table and comfortably seats him before going to the bar and ordering two beers. Dean doesn’t fail to see the raised eyebrow of the barman, traditionalist, Dean surmises, probably doesn’t like the idea of an omega drinking alcohol, well screw him Dean needs this.

The first hit of beer goes down like icy milk after a hot chili, soothing and calming Dean’s frayed nerves. He didn’t realize how anxious this date has made him. Cas had good intentions and Dean appreciates that but being out, as a couple, is scary. Dean can feel eyes looking at him, although when he turns to glare people are just going about their business, maybe he's paranoid, but he has to be careful now, even though Cas is looking out for both of them too.

“You okay?” Cas asks, his eyes are drawn to Dean’s hand that is grasping his glass so tightly his knuckles are white. Dean looks up, Cas has a small smile on his face and warmth in his eyes.

Dean makes a conscious effort to relax his grip and forces his face into some semblance of a smile in return. He doesn’t know why he thought this was a good idea, truly he had forgotten for a moment that things were different now, that one wrong move could not only cause problems for him but also reflect badly on Cas. Look at one person wrongly and he wouldn’t end up in a fight, no nothing so easy, it could end up with him being taken away from Cas. Of course that is the worst-case scenario, but Dean needs to be careful and prepare for the worst now. He's never going to be taken by surprise again. He can’t let his guard down, no matter how safe Cas makes him feel.

Cas rests a hand on Dean’s hip, it could feel sexualized or confining but Dean finds himself gentled by it, his breathing slows and evens and he looks at Cas and can see only concern in those beautiful blue eyes. Dean doesn’t know when he started thinking of Cas’ eyes as beautiful but he has, probably something to do with stupid mating hormones or some shit. Cas has been nothing but supportive and caring, even when he and Dean have disagreed it has generally been because Dean was being unreasonable and wanting to do something likely illegal or bad for his health. Dean knows that and appreciates it, but sometimes his mind rebels against letting itself have even the smallest modicum of happiness. Cas seems to adore him and Dean knows if he let himself then he and his alpha could have a real relationship. Yes, sex still scares Dean but he knows Cas would take things slowly. Dean realizes he has been staring into Cas’ eyes for a long ass time, but Cas is there, an overarching presence in Dean’s life and he doesn’t want to consider a time when Cas is no longer part of it. Dean feels a smile crawl onto his face and without any input from his brain he reaches over and kisses Cas. Apart from the brief peck at the wedding this was their first real kiss. Cas’ lips are dry and slightly chapped, but warm and responsive. Dean’s heart does a little flip as the hand on his hip pulls him into Cas’ body. Cas sighs and deepens the kiss and Dean finds himself letting him. As first kisses go, Dean would give it an eight, it was a little uncoordinated but Cas hadn’t taken it too far, no clashing tongues or teeth, no prelude to sex, just a soft and emotionally intense display of their strengthening feelings for each other. On reflection Dean thinks, a small smile on his face, the kiss hadn’t been an eight at all, it was a perfect ten and from the mirroring smile on Cas’ face, it seems like he agrees.

If Dean were to be asked later about the film they saw he wouldn’t be able to answer. He knows it was some action flick that they had picked out of the listings but his dominant memory is of Cas’ warm hand on his and the way his eyes never left Dean’s. Later, as guns blaze and the warm colors of explosions play across the alpha’s face Dean leans over and kisses him again. This kiss is less virtuous; there are lips and tongues, moans and sighs and Dean’s hands roam restlessly from Cas’ shoulders to his face and then through Cas’ silky hair. Dean smiles into the kiss knowing that Cas will look debauched with kiss-swollen lips and mussed hair; he suspects he won’t look exactly chaste either. As Cas’ soft, warm lips move against Dean’s and he savors the alpha’s flavor, rich and heady, Dean is hit like a bolt from the blue. He loves Cas. Dean pulls away, Cas chasing his lips. Dean looks into his husband’s eyes, still, that deep, beautiful blue, pupils lust-blown and Dean sighs. He could panic over this, stress and cause himself distress, but Cas will be careful with his heart so Dean moves back in and initiates another kiss. Dean finds himself enjoying this, kissing for the sake of kissing; kissing like this is the only important thing in life, like it is the pinnacle like there is nothing else. No hands wandering into intimate places, just warm caresses on arms and back. Dean could enjoy this; there is no pressure for more.

By the time they leave the theatre, the rain has started to drizzle down and Cas grabs Dean’s hand as they rush through the rain looking for the small side street where they parked the car. Cas opens the door for Dean causing conflicting feelings, “I’m not a girl,” Dean mutters as Cas smirks.

“I know, sweetheart,” he rejoins, his voice deep and gravelly. Dean scowls as he clambers into the car and Cas shuts the door. Dean watches as his alpha gets in the driver’s side and can’t help feeling a pang of want as Cas starts the engine. He wonders whether Sammy is driving his baby or whether she was languishing in some garage somewhere. Dean decides that he will call Sam in the morning to check he is taking care of his pride and joy. God, of all the horrors that had befallen him Dean missed his baby the most, that and the freedom of driving. Whoever decided that omegas shouldn’t be allowed to drive was a miserable fucker who should spend eternity in hell as far as Dean is concerned. He wonders whether the Omega Legal Services will ever be able to reverse that law. Hell, that was something Dean would live for.

When they get home Cas packs Dean off to bed, much to his relief. Dean had enjoyed kissing Cas to his surprise but he definitely isn’t ready to take things further and if he is honest with himself then he really isn’t sure whether he ever will be. Cas pecks him on the lips and pushes him into his room with a chuckle and Dean feels his heart swell. Cas understands him and Dean feels truly blessed.


	11. Chapter 11

It is as if a switch has been flipped in their relationship, from the moment of their date everything is more intimate; not sexual but there is a familiarity that had been missing. Cas touches Dean regularly, just a squeeze of the shoulder, or a muss of his hair and Dean to his surprise likes it and even finds himself becoming more tactile. Dean isn’t exactly happy, but he is content. He works in a job that helps others like him, he lives with a man who was kind and okay, Dean can admit it, attractive and there is a sense of peace in his life at the moment. He doesn’t have to make important decisions anymore, and that should scare him but it doesn’t, it is kind of nice to take his foot off the pedal and let someone else do the heavy lifting. Dean smirks, yeah he just mixed his metaphors and he doesn’t care. Cas is good for him, and Dean is learning to trust. Yeah there are things he misses, his dad, Sammy, he doesn’t see nearly enough of them, he misses his baby but Sammy had better be looking after his girl and not douching her up. Sometimes he misses having total autonomy, but at the moment he feels happy enough to go with the flow. He misses pack law but working with Omega Justice Services more than makes up for that. He feels like he is at the forefront of actual, important change. For all that Dean is content he also feels guilt that he had fallen on his feet with such a wonderful alpha when there are others out there that are in horrendous, untenable positions, living actual nightmares. Dean resolves that his life work will now be to improve the lives of omega’s in distress.

Dean’s life settles into a new normal. He works three days a week, sometimes working a twelve-hour day now that their most recent case is close to trial. Meg and Ellen always have either Charlie or Dean in the room when they prepare an omega for the trial. The most recent omega they are helping is a sweet 22 year old named Kevin and Dean’s heart breaks for the kid. His alpha had decided that he wanted to marry a beta and an archaic law allowed it. He kept Kevin for breeding purposes and had kept him pregnant. Kevin lived in a small garage apartment while the beta-wife lived in the main house. Once the babies were weaned they moved to the house with the beta-wife and husband. Kevin had kept his mouth closed but one day he had gone to the house when his husband was at work and had seen the wife hitting his youngest child for crying. Kevin had lost it and beat the crap out of the wife, an impressive feat considering Kevin was all of 5’ 5'' tall and 120lbs soaking wet. The Beta towered over him but still called the police to complain about her black eye. Kevin has been in prison ever since, pending the trial. All of his children had been taken from him, the eldest four are living with his husband and the youngest is in foster care as the baby was still being breastfed. It turned out that his husband didn’t care that his wife had been beating his children and is more than willing to help prosecute Kevin.

Kevin is smart as a whip. Dean learned that he is so smart that his teachers had applied to MIT for him and he had been accepted two years early. Of course they hadn’t mentioned that Kevin was an omega and once he was mated he hadn’t been allowed to go. MIT is one of the more liberal universities, surprisingly, and Dean asks Meg and Ellen whether there is any chance Kevin might be able to attend if he is found not guilty.

“Let’s not put the cart before the horses,” Ellen mutters as she shuffles a huge pile of paper. “Dean, have you seen the affidavit from the neighbor, what was his name?”

“Asa Fox,” Dean responds, reaching across and taking half of the pile, which had been in perfect order before two frazzled alphas had gotten their hands on it. Muttering to himself, Dean searches through the pile taking the time to reorder it as he goes until he comes across the elusive paperwork and hands it off to Ellen.

“Thanks,” she mumbles distractedly, “He's a good witness for us. He heard a lot of the abuse.”

Dean doesn’t want to burst her bubble but he has to ground her argument in reality. “Ellen, you know that some people, even some judges, don't consider what was done to Kevin to be abuse.” In fact Dean knows in some states that sort of behavior is encouraged, after all, omegas need to be controlled, need discipline, which most certainly includes physical discipline. Dean is also aware that there are plenty of traditional alphas in California, and several high ranking judges are among those numbers. Dean can feel himself getting disheartened. It’s not just his negative thoughts but he can smell stressed alphas; the bitter, vinegary scent is turning his stomach. He likes Kevin a lot, and he can’t really see a happy ending here, but he hopes, he hopes really hard, that just this once an omega gets a break. 

“Dean, calm down,” Meg says, “We’re going to do our best, we can’t promise a win but we are going to do our damnedest to get the best outcome.”

“I know you are. I’m just worried, I’m emotionally invested.” Dean sighs. 

“Look,” Ellen says, running her hands through her hair, which is starting to resemble a bird’s nest. “I know we got lucky in the Fletcher case, we got the right judge, the omega was tiny and incredibly submissive and managed to pull the heartstrings of a normally grumpy judge. We may not be so blessed this time but we have a good argument and we are going to give it a thousand percent. Whatever happens, this isn’t our endgame, better omega rights is our aim and we ain’t giving up until we get it.”

Dean knows Ellen’s story, the tragedy that causes her to work so hard but he isn’t going to bring it up. He just thanks the gods that there are some good alphas left in the world.

The upcoming court case is taking its toll on Dean; he is tetchy. Worse he knows he is irritable but doesn’t know how to relieve the itchy feeling under his skin. Back before he would’ve gone for a run or worked out hard at the gym; now he isn’t allowed out alone, ostensibly for his own protection because god forbid that alphas be responsible for their own actions. So Dean grumbles and bangs pots around as he makes dinner. Normally cooking helps relax him, but not today. Dean shapes ground beef into patties and sets them aside; even making his favorite meal isn’t helping. After washing his hands Dean sets about making a salad, tearing the lettuce, chopping the tomatoes, cucumber, and onions. Then he throws together a simple dressing of olive oil, wine vinegar, garlic, and lemon juice. It isn’t up to his normal standards but it’ll do. Dean can feel the tingle in his brain, the repetitive thoughts that are telling him Kevin will go to prison for life, that the poor omega will never see his children again and that arrogant alpha will live happily ever after with his evil Beta. Dean can barely control his breathing, he knows he sounds like he’s just run a marathon. God, he needs to do something, or he's going to explode. Maybe he’ll call Sammy, but he doesn’t want to bother him, and besides Sam isn’t going to understand. He would be sympathetic for sure, but that would never be him, alone, defenseless, and afraid. Dean knows he's projecting, but it’s kind of hard not to. Dean is safe, but he’s only safe because of Cas. What if Cas decides he wants a real mate and dumps him? Then he won’t be protected, he’ll be vulnerable, and he hates that feeling, the uncertainty. 

Dean needs to expend the excess nervous energy, and as he can’t go running or to the gym, he decides to clear out the hall cupboard, the one that he had named the ‘cupboard of doom’ when he moved in. Cas had mentioned that he dumped everything in there that didn’t have a home, and he’d blushed with embarrassment. Dean had taken a couple of forays into said cupboard, and he agreed, Cas should be ashamed of the horrendous mess.

Not really knowing where to start, Dean decides to just pull everything out and start again. The flipping cupboard was like the Tardis; once everything was out Dean had no idea how all of it had fit in the first place. There are skis, a snowboard, suitcases, various boxes of god knows what, Christmas decorations, tools, spare bulbs, coats, shoes, the list goes on. How the hell had Cas ever found anything? Dean is a natural organizer and as he worked sorting everything into categories he can feel the tension start to dissipate and although he was far from relaxed he did feel the best he had in days.

Dean has just started to put things back into the cupboard when he hears a rattling of the key in the lock and knows Cas is home. Dean feels a surge of adrenaline as he surveys the mess, he hopes Cas won’t get angry. Cas rounds the door, noticing Dean and smiling, and Dean can see the moment that he notices the mess when Cas’ brow furrows for a second. Dean feels his stomach do a little flip, Cas has been nothing but kind but he has always come home to a clean apartment and this is bordering on disaster.

“Hello, Dean. Doing some spring cleaning?” his mate asks wryly and Dean can feel his face warm.

“Yeah, sorry about the mess.” Dean surveys the carnage. It’s starting to look a bit more organized but that’s only because Dean has already started to refill the cupboard in a more systematic manner and he has moved some bits and pieces to more logical places around the apartment. “I needed to do something.” Dean shrugs and sits down on the floor, all the negative thoughts he’d worked so hard to evict start making incursions back into his mind. Resting his head in his hands, he closes his eyes and groans.

He hears Castiel sit next to him, a crinkling of fabric, a popping of knee joints, and a grunt as Cas lands.

“I fear I am too old to sit on the floor,” he complains.

Dean cracks an eye and looks side on at Cas. He's sitting cross-legged in his designer suit and he looks tired, there’s darkness under his eyes, but more than that, he looks concerned.

Dean sighs and says “I’m worried about the case, I’m sad and angry. An omega can’t even protect his children from injury. Omega’s are so vulnerable and they can’t protect themselves.” Dean groans and bangs his head against his raised knees. He feels Cas’ hand at his neck, tentatively rubbing the tensed tendons there.

“I’m sorry Dean, this must be difficult for you, but you are doing a good thing here. The only way to get things to change is to fight for it and that is what you are doing.” Cas’s hand moves up into Dean’s hair, scratching the scalp and sending tingles down Dean’s spine. “I’m proud of you, you know?” Dean spins his head around so quickly it hurts. Cas smiles at him, small and pleased. Cas’ hand keeps ruffling through Dean’s hair, relaxing and comforting. “For a moment there I didn’t think that you would be able to accept your new designation.” Dean can’t help it, he stiffens up and he knows that Cas can feel it as the alphas fingers start massaging Dean’s scalp sending waves of gooseflesh down his back. “I know I would have had far more trouble.” Cas continues. “You’re so much braver than you think you are. Back when you ended up in hospital…” Dean feels cold just thinking about his aborted suicide attempt, but Cas continues; his warm voice soothes Dean and his hands are still doing wonderful things with Dean‘s scalp. “I was so worried, but you picked yourself up, dusted yourself off, started therapy and group, got yourself a job.” Cas turns Dean’s head so they are looking at each other. Dean can’t get over how blue Cas’ eyes are, even now that he has seen them daily for months, they still surprise him. “You’re amazing Dean and I am lucky to have you as a mate.” Cas smiles at him, he looks joyful, his smile is huge, all gums and teeth, his eyes crinkle and Dean feels himself falling. He wants to argue that he's a crappy mate. That Cas doesn’t even get a blow job, let alone sex, but Cas looks so happy Dean doesn’t want to spoil this moment, because it is indeed a moment and he's going to revel in it, roll around and scent it like a dog in the long grass, so Dean smiles back and butts Cas with his forehead. “I’ll take that as an agreement,” Cas chuckles.

Dean doesn’t want to talk to spoil the moment, he knows he will disagree, he just can’t help himself, when self-worth was given out he was at the back of the queue. No, that’s not fair, truth be told circumstances eroded his self-worth over time and he can’t help but feel that living with Cas is going to do his confidence a world of good.

“Sometimes I think you’re too good to be true,” Dean finally says. “You never get pissed with me and I’m a miserable son of a bitch,” Dean grumbles into Cas’ shoulder. He can feel the shaking of Cas’ shoulder as he laughs.

“No one has ever said ‘I’m too good to be true’ before,” he says, “certainly not my family.” And although Dean is no longer looking at Cas he can feel the smile slip from his face. They haven’t really discussed his mate’s family but Dean gets the impression that there is some friction there.

“Meh, what do they know?” Dean replies and turns and kisses Cas on the mouth before his brain catches up. Cas certainly doesn’t seem to mind as he uses the hand in Dean’s hair to pull them gently together. They kiss softly, just lips and an almost tender sharing of breath. They haven’t touched like this since the date and now Dean realizes Cas was waiting for him to make the first move. God he's falling in love with his husband, and Dean isn’t really sure what to do with that. Cas is perfect, he's kind and patient, good-looking, but not an ass.

Dean pulls back from the kiss and says, “How did I get so lucky?” and moves in for another kiss before Cas can reply.

Dean doesn’t know how long they sit on the floor kissing, but by the time Cas helps him to his feet Dean’s ass and knees hurt but he can’t help but think it was worth it.

“Let’s get something to eat,” Cas says, his eyes surveying the mess in the hall, “then we can sort all this crap out.”

Dean dips his head feeling a blush creep up from his neck, he should’ve never started this project so close to when Cas would get home.

“Hey, none of that,” Cas states pressing a kiss to Dean’s cheek, “This is something I should have done ages ago, but it was so overwhelming. You’ve made a good start and after tea we’ll see if we can get rid of some more of the clutter and get some actual cupboard space back.”

“Are you okay Cas?” Dean asks. He couldn’t help but notice how tired his mate had been recently and Cas is always looking out for him. Quid pro quo Clarice, and all that.

Cas sighs and rubs his temple and the little wrinkle there that seems to be getting more pronounced on a daily basis. “The family wants us to move to the compound now that we are mated, but you know they aren’t the most progressive when it comes to omega rights, so I really don’t want to do that.”

Dean feels cold suddenly. He knows Cas’ family are more traditional when it comes to gender roles than the Winchesters ever were and he really doesn’t want to live under their rules. He imagines collars and spankings, hand feeding, and leashes; those are not the practices he wants to live under. Not only that but these people knew him as an alpha and Dean still has a certain shame about his change. He knows it is ridiculous to feel embarrassment for something he had no control over but he does.

Cas closes down his runaway thoughts by squeezing his shoulder.

“There’s no way that I would subject you to that, Dean, but you know families. They know which buttons to push, they know the manipulations and exploitations they can use to make life difficult.”

Dean does know. Although he had been lucky in many respects, his dad had wanted him to study law, and although that had been bottom of the list of things Dean had wanted to do with his life that’s what he ended up doing. Of course, now he’s grateful, it was funny how things changed.

“Please, Cas, whatever happens, please don’t make me live there. I can barely manage the omega thing living here with you, and you don’t make me follow those antiquated rules.” Dean can feel his breathing ratchet up, damn he thought he was stressed earlier when he was worried about Kevin, it turns out he's still just a self-involved asshole that is more concerned about his own circumstances.

Cas’ hand rubs soothingly at his nape and neck, “Dean, of course, we won’t move there. I could barely stand it if I was alone, let alone subject you to my family, even Gabe, who I love, is too much for me to be around.”

Dean smiles remembering the short, mouthy man from his mating ceremony, which led him to consider that Cas never had his family around.

“Thanks, Cas.” Shoulders slumping with relief Dean continues. “You never have your family over.” It was a statement not a question but Cas answered anyway.

“As I’ve said I can’t in all good faith subject you to their ideas of omega behavior. Gabe is all right, I suppose, but he’s course and offensive and he takes no prisoners when using that smart mouth of his. Don’t be upset Dean, but I worried that he would use his words to try and find your weak spots and once he found them he would exploit them, not because he's cruel but because he thinks he's funny.” Cas uses his free hand to scrub his chin.

Dean knows Cas thought he would be upset by his protectiveness but Dean is actually touched.

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean says and presses another kiss on Cas’ lips.

“Dean.” Cas practically sighs when they break apart, his hands move from Dean’s hair and skim down his sides. “What you do to me.” Dean smiles back.

“Ditto.”


	12. Chapter 12

The next day Dean has group; he has a love/hate relationship with Thursdays. It is nice to see Charlie in a less formal situation than at work, he enjoys her company. What he doesn’t enjoy is the pressure to bare his soul to a bunch of strangers. It should be easy Dean thought, well easier than telling his friends how he felt, as his friends knew him before but Dean was a private person. He knew it was from years of keeping secrets and that wasn’t something he could change over night.

Gadreel welcomes Dean with a warm smile. “How have you been?” he asks as he leads Dean to the coffee machine, “You like it black don’t you?”

Dean nods in the affirmative, accepting the disposable cup of jet black brew and taking a sip so he can organize his thoughts.

“I’ve been…” Dean makes a seesawing action with his hand.  
“Ah, comme-ci, comme-ça as the French put it. So much better than so-so I think.”

Dean nods and takes another sip. He can see Ruby, she’s wearing a skintight dress and sky-high heels. She looks like she’s off for a night out, not a group therapy session. Charlie is next to her, petite and gorgeous in a Harry Potter tee and burgundy denims. There are two more omegas in the room, Dean thinks he recognizes one of them from a previous meeting but the other looks lost. She’s pretty and blonde, but her face is marred by a grotesque, zigzagged scar that runs from her forehead down, barely missing her eye and ending at her top lip. There’s a story there but Dean doesn’t have any right to ask her if he's still unwilling to share his own.

Gadreel checks his watch and nods towards the circle of chairs. “It’s time.”

“Welcome, everyone,” Gadreel says, “I hope everyone is feeling well today. I see some familiar faces and some new ones. Is there anyone who wants to share their stories today, or any of our existing members who want to share snippets of what has happened during the week?”

To his surprise, Dean put his hand up.

“Dean,” Gadreel says with a warm smile. “What would you like to share with the group?”

“Em…” this had seemed such a good idea a moment ago and now Dean is having some serious buyer’s remorse. Dean’s hands feel cold but also sweaty as he takes a deep breath to try and steady his nerves; he had always hated public speaking. “Well, I’m not really sure where to begin, so I’ll go all the way back to the beginning. I was born an alpha.” Dean hears a shocked gasp for breath; he thinks it might be from the new omega. “My designation wasn’t changed through love but by a violent act. I was a shitty alpha, I wasn’t ambitious or competitive, and I love my family and home. I suppose that should have made the transition from alpha to omega easy. It hasn’t.” Dean ran out of steam and looked at Gadreel helplessly.

“Is there anything else you would like to say Dean? You’ve been very brave.”

Dean scans around the group; it was like a little microcosm of society, so many different types of people brought together by their secondary gender.

“Yes, I do. I’ve learned some things in the few short weeks I’ve been an omega. It sucks. Not everyone but a lot of people treat omegas like shit. I know I am no different now than I was when I was an alpha, in fact, I think I have to be stronger. I was a lawyer, of course, I am not allowed to practice anymore, omega’s aren’t clever enough, are too emotional.” Dean sighs. “I knew omega’s were treated differently.” Dean dry washes his face and continues, “In the Winchester pack I didn’t really think we treated them differently, there were plenty of omega’s in admin and hospitality, they weren’t abused or harassed, but looking back there were none in any senior positions although they were more than capable. I’m ashamed of myself for not noticing, but more than that for not doing anything.” Dean is on a roll now. “Worse than that though, when I saw omega’s being harassed in the streets I did nothing to help. My motto was always to not get involved. Oddly, now that I have so much more to lose I find myself angry, really angry.” Dean feels a flush rise up his neck and he looks around the group, all eyes are on him. The blonde omega flinches and looks away when their eyes meet. “I’ve started working for Omega Justice Services, and although my role will be minimal, I really hope that they can start to make some real, tangible, changes to omega rights.” Dean looks up and catches Gadreel’s eye; he looks a little uncomfortable but he manages a smile.

“Thank you, Dean, what you are doing is admirable, of course, and I am glad that you have found something that gives you purpose in life, but I must confirm that the Government has omega protection at the heart of any laws it has passed. Any restrictions are genuinely for your own safety. Please bear that in mind.” Gadreel’s eyes skitter around the room, seemingly checking the corners and high ceilings as if looking for something and Dean wonders whether they are being watched or monitored. It makes sense, he supposes, and not knowing how to make things better without being obvious he did what he should have done all along. Kept his mouth shut.

Later, after Ruby had given a rather self-involved speech about how difficult she had found it to acquire the perfect evening gown, the new girl starts to talk.

“My name is Jess, I was born an alpha too.” Dean looks up, shocked. She’s tall for an omega, sure, but she looks soft and gentle. “My high school boyfriend was upset when I presented as alpha. He was an alpha, too, and had wanted me to be an omega. His omega.” Dean can feel gooseflesh creep down his spine making him shiver. He feels a horrible inkling that he knows where this story is going. He wants to wrap Jess up in his arms and let her know she’s not alone in this, but he supposes that she is, in the end, they all are.

Jess continues. “I didn’t want that, I was happy as an alpha, I felt like I had all sorts of opportunities open to me that I wouldn’t have had as an omega. I loved my boyfriend and I didn’t see why my designation should change anything. I’m not traditional, and I didn’t think he was either.” She sighs and Dean can see her hands are shaking uncontrollably. “That night we went out to the movies and afterwards he drove us out to the point, we often went there to make out.” She smiles but Dean sees sadness in her eyes, sighing heavily she continues, “we kissed and he started trying to take off my underwear, we had never had full sex and I wasn’t planning on it, I just wasn’t ready. I tried to fight him off, I’m strong, I’m a tall girl, but he overpowered me and raped me, knotted me, and then expected me to be his little omega.” Jess laughs bitterly, “my parents were horrified but thought it was for the best so they mated me off to him.”

Dean huffs in disbelief. He's heard similar stories; parents always hope to make a good match for their omega children, but in Jess’ case he would have hoped they wouldn’t force her to mate her rapist but that's exactly what they did.

“It was horrible, of course, he wanted to show me off, the little omega.” Jess is crying now and Dean wants to kill the fucker that had done this to her. “I couldn’t bear to be with him, didn’t want him to touch me, was physically sick if he did. One day I was peeling potatoes and he demanded a blow job so I stabbed him.” She laughs, “He bled like a stuck pig. Sadly, I didn’t do too much damage, but he grabbed the knife from me and cut up my face.” She runs her hand over the scar. “Best thing he ever did, he didn’t want me anymore after that so I was taken by Omega Protective Services. Because he had damaged me they wouldn’t let him press charges. I’ve been lucky, there’s been no interest in me ‘cause of the scar…” Jess seems to have run out of steam and shakes her head. Ruby offers her a tissue and Jess smiles and wipes her eyes. “That’s my story.”

Dean feels a little sick, something needs to be done, omega’s deserved so much more than the crappy crumbs they are given. Dammit, Jess, Gadreel, Charlie and even Ruby deserve to be treated like human beings. Dean rubs his temple and gets up, pulling Jess to her feet he engulfs her in a tight hug whispering in her ear, “You’re so brave.”

“So are you,” she replies smiling broadly, “Us ex-alpha’s, we’ve got to be extra brave, and  
me and you, we are.” She nods firmly and Dean responds with a nod and smile of his own.


	13. Chapter 13

Castiel is late home and Dean doesn’t like it, he doesn’t like it one little bit, and that pisses him off. He should be grateful for some time alone, but he misses his mate and that just sucks.

Dean hadn’t really been paying attention this morning but he thinks Cas had said something about a meeting, maybe Dean should listen more, but he had been distracted by Cas’ morning hair the way it was sticking out every which way, and how blue his eyes had looked in the morning sun. Dean really needs to get a grip. The clock ticks over past nine pm before Dean hears the door open, dinner is long since in the bin, and Dean is a mess of anger that’s trying to crawl up his body and out of his mouth. He’s always been a master at schooling and mastering his feelings, so he buries them and looks up as Cas enters the room. The alpha looks livid, his eyes are flashing and he smells like thunderstorms and the raging sea. Then Dean scents it, the soft flowery aroma of a beta female. Dean’s breath gets stuck in his throat.

“Cas?” Dean mumbles as he notices two things almost simultaneously. One, Cas has a mating mark on his neck that Dean sure as fuck didn’t give him and two, the pretty beta female that is now in their apartment.

“Go wait in the kitchen,” Cas shouts and Dean is up and on his way before Cas finishes talking. There’s a hand on his shoulder, “Not you, Dean.” Cas sounds defeated and when Dean turns he looks shattered- he looks exactly how Dean feels.

The beta sneers at Dean as she turns and flounces towards the kitchen.

Cas leads Dean to the couch and they both sit down, Cas never lets go of his hand. “So…” Dean says gesturing towards the kitchen.

“So…”Cas replies, and he looks for all the world like he wants to cry. “That’s Amara, she’s my beta-mate.” Cas runs his hand through his hair and sighs. “I didn’t want this,” he nods towards the kitchen, but my family is very persuasive. It’s a political mating of course, but I don’t like her, and I don’t want her in my home. I don’t know what to do about this, she bit me, Dean,” he motions towards the mark on his neck with distaste. “I’m so sorry that she's here, I just wish we could run away, get a small house in the country and keep bees or something.”

Dean manages to crack a smile at the non-sequitur. “Bees?”

Cas smiles back and shrugs. “I like bees.”

Dean looks up at Cas, “So how’s this all going to work? She’s your beta-mate, so obviously she has power over me, Cas, “ Dean shivers, just when things were settling into a new normal, everything had gotten messed up again.

Cas rubs his temple and groans. “Dean I don’t know how this is going to work, but I will make sure she knows to leave you alone okay?” Dean nods.  
“I don’t want this to be my life. Dean,” Cas continues shaking his head. “I just like our life, you and me, we’re starting to feel like family, things are less awkward,” Cas rubs the back of his neck, “I was courting you.” He laughs but there is no humor in it, “I know it was ass-backward, but I love you, and I hoped that with time you would love me too, now this.” Cas harumphs, Dean didn’t realize that was actually a thing, but apparently his mate can be a grumpy alpha. “I am going to sort this, I don’t know how, but I will.”

Dean doesn’t know how Cas is planning on ‘sorting’ anything. He was mated, bitten, and everything. There are very few ways of getting out of a mating, and he is pretty sure they are stuck together, the three of them, for the foreseeable future. It would be easier for Cas to rid himself of Dean, disposing of an unwanted omega is something Cas could sort out in his lunch hour, a trip to the court and one form is all it would take. Amara, that would be a different story. She would have to practically murder someone or commit a huge fraud. It is all so unlikely that Dean decides all he can do is try to live with the new status quo. No matter how bad it is, at least he isn’t being beaten or raped.

Dean manages to crack a smile, but inside he's dying. He has only just admitted his feelings for Cas to himself, and now his mate will be sharing his bed with someone else. This can’t be his life.

As it turns out, Cas doesn’t share his bed with Amara. He makes a bed for himself in the study while Amara claims the master bedroom for herself. Dean doesn’t for one moment consider that the mating hadn’t been consummated. He had seen the raw-looking bite on Cas’ neck and knows without the graphic thoughts that permeate his mind that it had. Cas seems to have no interest in her now though, he rebukes any attempt at affection she tries. It makes Dean feel just a little better to see the pinched look in her eyes, particularly when she notices the easy warmth between him and Cas. Little does she know how hard-fought that affection was.

Amara is a bitch, and Dean doesn’t use that term lightly. She's sweetness and light when Cas is around, but an evil queen of darkness when Cas is at work. She doesn’t work either, which pisses Dean off, and she spends any time they are in the same space snipping away at Dean’s self-confidence and control. He’s never hit a woman in his life, but he would make an exception for her. If he has to listen to her say that he's just a hole for Cas’ pleasure one more time, he swears the jail time or even execution would be worth it. He revels in the time he's out of the apartment. Work, although stressful, becomes an escape, and anytime that he can he works later so that Cas is already home. He even starts to look forward to group and therapy. He can’t say that they are working because the new state of existence sucks and Dean is trying to come to grips with it.

“You look like crap,” Charlie says at their next group session as she takes a huge bite of a blueberry muffin.

“Fucking Amara,” Dean says sitting next to Charlie and stealing a sip of her coffee.

“Oi” she says spraying Dean with crumbs, and just yuck, but she smiles so guilelessly that Dean can’t help but forgive her.

“Yeah, apparently the in-laws have been speaking to her about how Cas has to knock me up in the next six months, and then he and her can raise the baby.” Dean groans at the headache that had been brewing since he woke that morning. “Yeah, apparently then Cas can legally dump my omega ass, bring dishonor to the Winchester pack…yadda, yadda. I stopped listening. It does sound like something old man Novak would consider though. They hate omegas, so I was surprised when they agreed to the mating.” Moaning he rubs his temples, bloody headache.

“Yeah,” Charlie agrees looking at Dean, and he can hardly bear the sympathy in her eyes. “He was a slippery beggar. I remember a while back there were several complaints about omegas under his care, so it wouldn’t surprise me. I can’t see Cas going along with it though.”

“Yeah.” Dean concurs, “that’s the only thing keeping me going at the moment, but then I think I would never have thought that he would bring another mate home. Somehow his family had made him agree to that, what else can they get him to agree to?”

Charlie reached over and took Dean’s wrist, and he recoils in pain.

“What the fuck.” She murmurs as she peels back his sweater sleeve to reveal a large purple bruise. “Amara?”

Dean nods, “What can I do? I can hardly respond to violence with more violence. I’m living in a barely tenable situation. One word from her to the wrong people and I could be killed, or taken to one of the omega rehab centers, and after all I’ve heard about those then death would be preferable. Jesus, Cas doesn’t realize what he’s done.”

Charlie looks horrified, but what Dean said was true: no one really appreciated an omega’s tenuous position unless they had walked a mile in their shoes.

Back home after the respite of group therapy Dean found himself in hell, again. Amara was on form.

“Dean, I want you to iron this dress for me, and make sure you do a good job.” She smirks at him. “Castiel is taking me out on a date tonight.” Dean couldn’t help himself, his mind wandered back to his and Cas’ date, how sweet and tentative it had been. How it had been a true beginning and now he was taking Amara out. Dean looked at the dress, it was a skimpy thing, shiny and clingy. It didn’t need ironing, she was just baiting him. Dean was tempted to burn a hole in the thing but he really didn’t want another beating, not that he was afraid of pain but there was something humiliating about a grown man being thrashed by a one hundred pound woman.

Dean set up the ironing table and gave the scrap of material the once over holding his tongue all the while. Amara watched Dean, a sly look on her face but Dean couldn’t bring himself to care. His life sucked and he just wanted to go home to his dad and brother. Dean hasn’t felt so down for a while, not since he had first moved in. Cas had somehow won Dean over, given him a life that Dean could tolerate, in fact he had given the omega the will to live again, but then he had pulled the rug out from beneath his feet. Dean realized that Cas hadn’t had a say in the matter but still it was Dean that was suffering.

Dean escaped to his room, picked up Luna for the comfort he needed, and dialed Sam.

“Hey Sammy.” Dean tried to put some happy emotion into his voice but he wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Dean, what’s the matter?” Dean sits on the bed and rests his head in one hand.

“Sam, Cas has taken another mate and she’s a bitch.” Dean hadn’t meant to be so blunt but he’d been holding it all in, not wanting to worry his family.

“I heard a rumor,” Sam said, sounding confused. “But I thought there was no way Cas would do that.”

“I didn’t think so either, but he came home one day with her. Sam, I just want to come home.”

“You know we’d love to have you here, but now isn’t a good time.” Of course it isn’t, Dean thinks. “We’re out of town to negotiate with the Roman pack. I’m sorry Dean, do you think you’ll be alright?”

Dean isn’t sure but he knows how important inter-pack negotiations can be.

“Yeah Sammy, I’ll be fine.”

Cas’ relationship with Amara has been chilly at best, so Dean is surprised when Cas finally gets home from work and disappears into his room only to come out awhile later dressed in a deep blue suit that matches his eyes and tie that’s a lighter shade of blue with a slight sheen. He looks hot and Dean bites his lip to stop himself from saying something stupid.

Cas gives Dean a sad look and opens his mouth as if to say something, but Amara chooses that moment to come out of the family bathroom on a waft of perfumed air. She is almost dressed in a tiny silk shift that barely covers her ass and breasts, her heels are scarily high and her makeup is perfect from her sculpted brows to her blood-red lips. Dean wants to kill her. Painfully.

“Don’t wait up,” she sneers.

Cas frowns but nods at Dean as the omega’s world totters and collapses around him.

Dean doesn’t have anything to do but sulk, and he isn’t a whiny bitch so he settles down and loads up the computer to do some research on a new case that the Service has taken on. It is a heartbreaker, an omega teenager, only thirteen, who has filed a lawsuit against her alpha parent. Apparently said parent had thought it was a good idea to punish his omega mate by locking him in a closet without any food or water. The alpha had then gone out, gotten drunk, ended up in an accident and his omega had starved to death while the alpha was in the hospital. When the omega child came home from the academy, she had found her parent dead in the cupboard, scars littering his seriously underweight body. The alpha had been in a private hospital, receiving treatment for a broken femur. He hadn’t been unconscious, he had merely forgotten about his omega. The only good thing to come out of the whole sorry affair was that the omega child, Claire, had been removed and now lived in an omega home. Ellen is hoping that she can use an old law that had never been revoked; the law actually referred to the prevention of enjoyment of family life and she was hoping that she would get a judge that would agree with her tentative argument.

Dean researches then drinks coffee and then researches some more. The clock ticks around to midnight and Dean knows he was just waiting up in the vague hope that Cas and Amara would come home early. As every minute crept by that hope wanes until it dies. Dean knows he was delaying the inevitable so he tidies up, washes his cup, and heads to bed, calling Luna to join him. He needs the snuggles tonight.

Dean can’t settle enough to sleep; his mind whirs, questions running around his head. The main question is why the fuck is Cas out on a date with Amara, and that of course causes Dean to think back to their date, how sweet and romantic it had been. Dean really hopes Cas isn’t getting sweet and romantic with her, he truly thinks that would kill him.

Eventually, exhausted and soothed by a purring bundle of fur Dean slips into a restless sleep.

He isn’t sure what wakes him but something does. Heart racing and a cold sweat lingering on his brow Dean sits up, the covers falling into his lap. Luna harrumphs and walks away, tail in the air, butt on display for all to see.

Dean listens, he can hear something but he isn’t sure what it is, he is at his bedroom door before his brain catches up. Quietly he pulls down the handle, flinching when it clicks open. Dean sneaks out into the hall, drawn inexorably towards the dim light coming from the kitchen, that’s when he sees it.

Amara is sitting on the kitchen table, her dress hitched around her waist. She isn’t wearing any underwear, which Dean can see because her legs are spread and Cas is between them, his trousers around his knees and his ass bare. He is thrusting into her, grunting at each shove. Amara is making pained little moans as she plays with one of her nipples with one hand; the other supporting her from falling backward. They aren’t kissing, and for such an intimate deed there is no tenderness to the act.

Dean puts his hand over his mouth and backs down the corridor and back to his room. His chest hurts a physical gnawing ache. How dare Cas make Dean love him then cast him aside like this. Dean grabs Luna and, although she protested, he buries his face in her fur and sobs. Amara has won.


	14. Chapter 14

Dean hasn’t slept, he has clutched Luna to his chest like a life preserver all night and she had complied, for the most part, but now she is looking disgruntled so Dean lets her go. The early morning sun is dishwater weak and insinuates itself through the cracks in Dean’s blinds, the cracks that are a fucking metaphor for his wrecked life.

Dean drags himself out of bed, leaving a displeased cat to hog the warm spot and makes his way to his shower, praising all that is holy that he has an en suite; he did not need to bump into his mate and that woman this morning.

The shower is warm and soothing and it is Dean’s happy place, he always feels better afterwards, this morning not so much. He has to leave his room as he has to go to work, but he seriously considers calling out sick, something he had never done before. Dean is many things, but a quitter isn’t one of them, he always faces his problems head-on and today isn’t going to be any different. So he has developed feelings for Cas, people are cheated on daily, people get over it. In fact, Dean shouldn’t really even be upset, Cas wasn’t his choice, the fact that he likes the alpha is probably some Stockholm crap. Dean can feel his heart rate increase, anger is good; anger is better than feeling sorry for oneself.

With one last thought of ‘let’s do this’ Dean exits the bedroom, in his head the Rocky theme tune is playing and Dean is running up those steps. The reality is a little more sedate, he walks slowly down towards the kitchen, and although he tries to cling to the high energy he feels his heart sink lower and lower with every step. He can hear her laughter from the kitchen, and occasionally hear the deeper sounds of Cas talking. Dean takes one big breath and walks in. 

Amara smiles brightly at Dean, “Good morning Omega. Castiel has kindly made some breakfast.” Amara walks over and kisses Cas on the cheek and Dean wants to scratch furrows down her fawning face, but Dean is a gentleman so he just digs deep and finds some semblance of a smile and replies.

“Thank you, but I’m running late for work.”

“Now, Omega.” Dean flinches, he can’t help it, he hates being referred to by his gender designation. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Sit.” Her tone brooks no argument, but Cas, who had to this point been standing around looking awkward, puts a hand on Amara’s shoulder and shakes his head.

“Dean can get something at work. Dean, Crowley is waiting outside.” Dean feels such a pang of jealousy when he sees Cas’ hand on that woman’s shoulder that he nearly asks for another appointment with Benny. Dean needs to get over this or at least school his emotions quickly, if he doesn’t Amara will win, and Dean can’t have that happen. Cas smiles at Dean but it is pained and self-conscious, but Dean doesn’t give a fuck if Cas feels embarrassed, it is his own damn fault.

Dean can’t get out of the apartment quickly enough, he doesn’t want to give Amara a chance to gloat, or Cas a chance to apologize. Dean can see it in his eyes that he is sorry, he is probably sorry for mating Dean, especially now that he had Amara. Dean is living on borrowed time in that house, Cas is either going to send him to the Omega Center or try to impregnate him, then he and Amara would raise the baby and send Dean to the Omega Center. Dean didn’t fancy any of those options, but it looked like the Omega Center was definitely in his future.

Ellen is bustling around her office when Dean arrives, she has a large book under her arm and another held out so she can read it as she paces up and down her office.

“Hello,” Dean says to Charlie, keeping one eye on Ellen, she looks really stressed. “What’s going on?”

“Some problems with the new case. They drew Judge Adler and he has agreed that the omega child can go back to live with his murdering ass of a father.”

Dean feels his stomach plummet, it says something about the world that Dean isn’t even surprised by that decision.

“It was probably only a matter of time, that ass just had to reapply until he got the judge he wanted,” Dean says sitting opposite Charlie and stealing her coffee. He hadn’t managed to grab a cup at home because he hadn’t wanted to sit at the table with a smirking Amara.

“Oi, get your own.” Charlie gripes, trying to snatch her cup back but Dean is too quick.

“Oh, that’s good,” Dean crows, winking at Charlie. It is a bit of an effort trying to act normally when his life is changing so quickly, but being around Charlie always made him feel better.

“What’s going on?” Charlie asks, she has a little wrinkle between her brows.

Dean rubs his neck and inhales, trying to clear the bitterness from his voice. “Cas and Amara have…” how could he put this? “…taken their relationship to the next level. They’re having sex. In the kitchen, on the table, it seemed incredibly… unhygienic.”

Charlie’s eyes widen then she grabs Dean’s hand. “I can’t believe it,” Dean nods, neither did he, his and Cas’ relationship had been going so well. Cas had been courting him for goodness sake.

“Maybe he got tired of waiting for me to get my shit together and put out for him.” Even as he says it Dean can’t believe it’s true, Cas had been so kind to him and he had shown no interest in Amara, in fact, he had seemed disgusted with her. Dean’s life has become so confusing.

Charlie holds onto Dean’s hand, she is so tiny but warm and supportive and Dean really needs her now.

Dean hears the door and Ellen pops her head around it and smiles tightly. “Dean, can you look up a case for me? I’m pretty sure it was the Jackson one, you know the one with the omega maid.” Dean hmms, he thinks he can remember the one, it wasn’t Jackson though. Dean rifles through the papers and with a sound of success he pulls out the Mabel Johnson case papers and hands them to Ellen who disappears back into her office.

“What are you going to do?” Charlie hisses. Dean just shrugs, what is he supposed to do, what indeed can he do.

“Let’s not worry about me. I’ll survive, I always do” Dean nods and tries to pull himself together, he hurts but he has no choice but to get on with life. “Let’s find the best argument to keep that poor kid out of that murderer’s house.” Charlie looks worried but holds her tongue and nods.

Cas is waiting when Dean gets home, he is pacing around the kitchen working himself up about something, and Dean doesn’t need this.

“Dean.” He says and his voice is higher, desperate. Dean feels his heartbeat ratchet up a level and he tries his hardest to smile but it must have looked wrong because Cas just slumps like all the muscles in his body gave out at the same time.

Dean looks at Cas, really looks. His skin is grey, there are pronounced bags under his eyes, and his wrinkled forehead that normally gives him such character now just looks sad. He certainly doesn’t look like a man who got lucky a few hours previously. Looking at Cas causes pain, underneath he is still the man that Dean has fallen for and he has taken another partner without even discussing it with Dean, and that is what hurt the most. Cas hadn’t even mentioned it; he had just brought her home.

Cas looks at Dean longingly, his wrinkled brow that Dean normally found endearing is crinkled in a way that Dean recognizes and doesn’t like. Cas did this when he was telling Dean something for his own good or I’m telling you the truth, honest. There is something a little odd, something disingenuous about it today, and Dean sighs; he might as well get this over and done with.

Dean trudges to the kitchen table, the self-same table that Cas had fucked Amara against a few short hours ago. Dean feels the acid crawl up from his stomach and he just can’t sit there.

“Living room.” Dean grits out and detours around Cas. It is like walking through treacle, Dean doesn’t want this conversation, but he reaches the couch and thinks twice about it before perching himself in the recliner instead. Cas sits on the edge of the couch and rubs his forehead.

“Dean,” he says and looked up imploringly like he wants Dean to make this easier, and Dean has had enough. Fuck Cas, fuck Amara, fuck Lucifer, just fuck them all. Dean was the one who has been let down by everyone. Why should he make this easier for anyone?

“Yes?” Dean asks, raising his eyebrows in a show of nonchalance that he certainly doesn’t feel.

Dean can see hope die in Cas’ eyes, hell in his whole bearing, and he finds himself feeling small tendrils of pity, which he stamps down on as soon as they grow.

“Dean, I know this is hard for you, it’s not been easy for me.”

Dean snorts, it just falls out, he has no control.His brain catches up seconds later but by then it is too late. Cas’ gaze hardens but then he sighs.

“I thought I heard something last night. You saw that?” Cas hides his head in his hands.  
“I’m surprised you were aware of anything else.” There goes Dean’s mouth again.

Cas casts him a sharp look. “Look, this doesn’t mean anything.”

Dean looks at his mate. He hadn’t wanted to mate Cas, but he had, and the alpha had inveigled his way into Dean’s life and affections. He had done everything he could to make Dean’s life better. Well, he had until Cas brought Amara home out of the blue. Maybe this new beta-mating hadn’t meant anything to Cas, but it sure as fuck did to Dean. Dean, who is falling in love for the first time, and who has had the rug pulled out from under him. Dean has experienced a lot of emotions recently, depression being the major one, but happiness has been trying to sneak in. Now, all those emotions have been superseded by being pissed the fuck off, and Dean needs to get out of this situation before he says something he can’t take back.

Cas is looking at Dean with those blue, blue eyes like he’s trying to tell Dean something without words, but he’s speaking a language that Dean doesn’t understand. It hurts to be this out of sync with Cas, they had just found a new normal and now it's been blown to pieces.

“Doesn’t mean anything,” Dean repeats slowly and watches his mate flinch. “Do you know what Cas? Words are easy. This does mean something. This…” Dean runs out of steam as quickly as he started. Fuck Cas and fuck Amara, let them fuck each other for all he cares. Liar a little voice in his head says. Everything is messed up and Dean needs out, the only way would be if Cas rejects him and sends him to Omega Services.

“Dean,” Cas sighs, a series of emotions flicker over his face as he reaches out to grasp Dean’s hand. Dean wants nothing more than to pull it away, but Cas’ warm dry palm against his still feels right. Dean looks up into Cas’ eyes. The man looks haunted, there are dark circles where there used to be clear skin and the wrinkles around his eyes look deeper set and less like they were caused by smiling and more like frowning. Dean can’t find it in himself to feel sorry for the man, he may have been coerced into mating that woman but no one forced him to use his dick on her. Dean looks away and sighs, they might as well get this over and done with.

“What Cas? What do you want to say to me?” Dean is tired, not the tiredness that comes from a broken night’s sleep but the exhaustion borne of the constant struggle his life has been for the last few months.

Cas looks back sadly and then says, “Hate sex.” He sighs and looks around the room.

“Hate sex,” Dean repeats, tasting the words in his mouth; they taste of excrement and loss. Dean can’t think of any reason why someone would want to have sex purely out of hate, well apart from rape, but Dean had seen the act, and Amara had definitely been enjoying it.

“I feel nothing for that woman,” Cas continues, “she baits me, undermines me…and you. She hates you,” Cas makes a grand gesture with his hands, circling them and then shaking them. Dean isn’t sure what he means, he isn’t even sure Cas does either. “Obviously,” he continues, “she knows where my affections lie.” He grabs Dean’s hand and smiles, small and broken. “She has the ear of my father; he doesn’t like omegas and, well, he could make things very difficult for you.” Ah, Chuck Novak, of course, it would all come back to him.

Dean’s mind races. Cas is suggesting that he still has affection for Dean although his actions implied otherwise, and Chuck, well he is renowned for being a problematic man and he holds a great deal of power. The Novak pack is one of the most influential packs. They have judges and law enforcement in their pockets and if Cas thinks that he would make trouble for Dean, then the likelihood is that he could. There are worse places than the Omega Centers and Dean knows that. There are re-education centers, mainly privately run, where all sorts of unpleasant things happened to omegas. There have been some awful exposés in recent times about the conditions in these unregistered organizations. Dean doesn’t really want to think about that but it wouldn’t surprise him if that is what Chuck wants for him.

“Cas…” Dean moans, pulling his hand away and covering his face with his hands. “I can’t go on like this. I just can’t.”

Cas grabs Dean’s hand back and stares into his eyes, Dean can see everything: love, sorrow, and need. Dean lurches forward and ends up in Cas’ lap, his lips finding the plump, soft ones of his husband. The soft kisses goodbye and hello had stopped once Amara had maneuvered her way into their fragile relationship but they spent minutes, maybe hours, catching up now. Soft gentle kisses deepen, Cas’ tongue insinuates its way into Dean’s mouth causing Dean’s stomach to flip and he gasps as Cas hands move restlessly over his body, slipping under Dean’s tee shirt leaving a trail of sparks in their wake.

“Cas.” Dean gasps, he can feel his cock plump within his pants and he wants nothing more than to take Cas to his bed and do all the things that husbands do together. He wants to feel closer to Cas than he has anyone else.  
Dean breaks the kiss, his lips wet with saliva, and his breathing ragged. He wants and needs and these emotions are so alien, so unexpected that he can feel tears prickling in his eyes. He could pull away now, stop this, and he knows that Cas will accept it, but he doesn’t want that. He gets up and takes Cas’ hand and leads him to his bedroom.


	15. Chapter 15

It should be awkward, Dean’s still pissed off at Cas but these new feelings are overwhelming, chasing away his anger and replacing it with what Dean can only call desire. Cas’ hands are everywhere, Dean’s chest, his waist, roaming to his ass and hesitating there for a moment before he moves up and slips his hand under the waistband of Dean’s jeans insinuating it down between Dean’s cheeks and centering in on Dean’s hole. Dean can feel himself leaking, can feel the need to be filled, not with the desperation he felt when he was in heat, this is a purer want, more about his feelings for Cas than the purely physical. It surprises Dean how much he wants this. Dean let’s his own hands wander first to Cas’ hair, pulling him into a deeper kiss as they fall onto the bed, a tangle of arms and legs. It isn’t the most dignified of moves and their teeth clash alarmingly, making Dean snort trying to withhold a giggle. Cas pulls back leaning over Dean, a smile breaking on his face, fast and bright, the crescendo of a firework display.

Cas is lying half on half off Dean and his amused glance becomes heated again and Dean pulls him in for more of those sweet kisses. Dean runs his hands through Cas’ hair, the strands are silky between his fingers and Dean can imagine how tousled Cas will look after. Cas is pushing Dean’s shirt up and his fingers are burning hot prints into Dean’s skin. Cas finds one of Dean’s nipples and tweaks it causing Dean to throw his head back and moan, his nipple seems to have a high-speed link to his cock which is trying to stand proud within his pants. He wants to be naked now, he needs to feel Cas’ naked body against his.

Dean pushes at Cas and sits up hiking his shirt up and over his head and then starts unbuttoning his pants. Cas isn’t getting with the game plan as he just lies there watching, his eyes are more black than blue as he watches intently. Dean quirks an eyebrow but Cas just smiles, slow like molasses, and reaches out to help Dean remove his pants and underwear. Cas’ hands are like wildfire leaving trails of burning embers wherever they touch, and they seem to find plenty of places to touch as they pull Dean's pants down his legs. He's grateful that he's barefooted, as there are no socks and shoes to slow Cas down, and then he’s naked, and Cas, well, he's still fully clothed. Dean thinks he should feel vulnerable but he doesn’t. The way Cas is looking at him as if he's the best thing to ever exist, makes Dean feel powerful and wanton.

Dean reaches out and inelegantly scrabbles with Cas’ shirt, pulling at buttons as his hands seem too big for the tiny fastenings. Clumsily, Dean manages to undo them and push Cas’ shirt off his shoulders to revel in the warm, tan flesh beneath. Cas’ skin is soft and hot, Dean could swear he was running several degrees hotter than normal as he reaches forward to get his mouth on Cas’ collarbone. Cas tastes sweet and salty and Dean can hear his husband’s harsh inhalation as Dean tongues down Cas’ chest to his dark pert nipples. Taking one between his teeth, Cas’ groan makes Dean’s lips twitch and he sucks until it is erect before he turns his attention to the other one. Cas’ body is so reactive, Dean can feel the muscles clenching and relaxing beneath his skin as Dean kisses down the planes of Cas’ stomach heading inexorably closer to Cas’ dick. Dean’s hands fumble at Cas’s zipper but Cas pushes his hands away and quickly undoes his pants to pull them and his underwear down and kick them awkwardly off his feet. Then he reaches down and removes his socks, giving Dean a wry glance.

“Naked with socks on is never a good look.” Dean smiles back but gets distracted by Cas’ penis standing prominent in a nest of dark hair.

Dean’s never been interested in porn, but that doesn’t mean he’s never seen another penis before. Cas’ could be considered a work of art, slightly above average, straight with a noticeable vein running the length of it.

Dean reaches forward and tentatively licks the bead of precum from the tip. He finds the taste is bitter, but not disgusting. Dean has never willingly taken a cock into his mouth and the memory he has from childhood, although fragmented and blurred by time, tries to worm its way into Dean’s brain. That is not going to happen, this is his choice, he's taking control of his life and sexuality, and the past can just go fuck itself.

Cas is quivering with need, and Dean can tell he's trying so desperately to stay still as Dean takes the head of his husband’s dick into his mouth. Cas tastes like a sun-warmed mountain spring, warm but salty and the groan that Cas makes is positively carnal. Dean sucks the tip and tries to deep-throat, but his lack of experience shows when Cas hits the back of his throat, and he gags. He pulls back quickly and can feel Cas’ hand on the back of his neck caressing gently.

“Dean, you don’t have to,” he says brokenly like it takes every ounce of his being to give Dean this out.

Screw that, Dean isn’t a quitter; he moistens his lips and looks at Cas under his lashes. Cas looks wrecked, his hair is pointing every which way, his eyes are dark and he looks at Dean with such intensity that Dean’s stomach flips. Dean goes to town; he takes Cas as far as he can holding the base so he doesn’t repeat the gagging debacle. Cas feels good in his mouth, hot and silky, and alive. In the past, Dean would have never considered doing something like this for pleasure but now he can see the flaw in his logic; he just needed the right partner.

“Dean,” Cas croaks and reaches down touching Dean’s cheek, “I want to be inside you. Please.”

And suddenly that’s all Dean wants too; he pulls away and wipes his mouth which is drenched with saliva and precum. Cas watches him with that dark intensity that does interesting things to Dean’s insides. Sometime soon Dean is going to finish what he started and blow his husband to completion. With one last glance at Cas’ impressive cock, Dean smiles and licks his lips as he lies back on the bed. Cas growls and actually pounces on Dean, his body moving with grace, all sinewy muscles and smooth skin. It feels right, Cas surrounding Dean, protecting him, loving him. The world fades away, all the stupid bullshit about alphas, betas and omegas, politics and even fucking Amara until all that’s left is Cas and Dean, their bodies touching, melding as Cas carefully enters his husband with a sigh that Dean answers with his own broken moan.

Dean’s body is overloaded with sensation. He had never thought sex could be like this, so all-consuming. Cas is thrusting with abandon now and Dean wraps his legs around his husband and holds on for the ride; he can feel his orgasm approach as Cas hits his prostate forcing a groan from Dean’s lips. Cas looks at Dean all liquid blue eyes and fierce determination, a wicked smile on his lips as he hits the same spot again and again. Dean flings his head back as his orgasm hits like a freight train; the oxygen is expelled from Dean’s lungs as his vision whites and his cock pumps it’s load between their bodies. When Dean comes back to himself his body feels overstimulated and bordering on painful, but when he looks up at Cas all that is forgotten. His husband is magnificent, sweat is beading on his forehead and his hair is pointing every which way. The smile is gone from his lips and he looks wrecked.

“Dean,” he moans and Dean feels a gush of warmth deep inside as Cas finally let’s go. Cas is looking at him and Dean feels more naked than he ever has. It is like Cas sees him and likes what is there; his gaze is warm and full of love and it is making Dean squirm even as he feels Cas’ knot fill. Shit, he should have turned over, now he's stuck like this. He can’t hide; Cas’ eyes are locked with his own, inscrutable, then suddenly decisive.

“Bite me.”

What. The. Fuck. Dean’s brain goes offline and suddenly there is a tang of blood in his mouth and a fresh bite on Cas’ collarbone. At least his hindbrain chose a more discrete place than that bitch Amara.

Cas looks pleased, his eyes are soft and he comes in for a kiss, tasting his own blood on Dean’s lips.

“Cas,” Dean whimpers, the stretch in his ass isn’t uncomfortable but the effort to keep his legs wrapped around Cas is starting to hurt and he can feel his thighs start to shake. Cas reaches around and helps Dean move his legs down to the bed; the burn is intense, but at least this position is better. Knees bent, Dean, rests as he feels his husband pulse within him. His mind wanders to Amara who Cas fucked mere hours ago. There had been no tenderness between them, thinking back, it was hardly even sexy. Amara had bitten Cas back during their mating, and he certainly hadn’t seemed pleased about it, but he had asked Dean to bite him. These things all mean something, but Dean is tired and sated, and without meaning to, he closes his eyes and drifts to sleep.

Dean wakes to a pleasant ache in his ass and a cold bed. Cas is gone, though not far since Dean can hear him shouting. He moves to sit up, immediately regretting the decision as the pleasant ache blooms into something sharp and raw. With a hiss, Dean sits fully and swings his legs out so he's sitting on the edge of the bed. He can feel his husband’s release trickle out of him, and he cringes; nothing prepares you for that. Feeling slightly gross and very achy, he yearns for nothing more than a hot shower, but he can hear raised voices; Cas’ firm but loud, and Amara’s shrill and out of control.

“You fucked that slut!” she screams, and although they are separated by a thick door it sounds like they are in the same room. Dean can hear her panting, he can almost feel the spray of spittle on his face.

“Enough,” Cas demands, and Dean is sure he's using his alpha voice, “That is my husband you are talking about, my true-mate. You…” and Dean can hear the sneer in Cas’ voice, “Are my beta-mate, and you will act as such. You will show Dean respect, and if you don’t,” Dean can hear Cas pacing, he imagines that he's stalking towards Amara, pointing a finger, face red with anger, “I will not be responsible for my actions. Hear me, Amara, you are here under sufferance. If you do not like the status quo then you can leave.”

Dean smiles. He wants to applaud, but he's not stupid. Cas’ fine words won’t change anything, Dean is still on dicey ground, true-mate or not. Amara still has far more rights, could beat him to death, and no court would ever jail her, not unless he was pregnant and she killed a child. Cas’ words are a comfort though. Cas loves him, Dean has no doubt about that and even though Dean’s heart is a sad, deformed thing, Cas makes him want to fix it and love Cas back with everything he has. Cas has given Dean something, something he had thought was lost forever. 

Cas has given him hope.


	16. Chapter 16

Being in love with his husband is almost as difficult as the weird, uncertain feelings Dean had experienced since their marriage. He thinks this as he sneaks out of his room to get some coffee. The tension in the apartment is so thick that sometimes Dean finds it hard to move about like he’s walking through molasses. Amara is there, of course, she doesn’t work, why would she now that she is married to a wealthy man? Her presence makes Dean’s life hell, especially now that she knows how Cas feels about him. She has no shame, she parades around the apartment in her underwear if it could even be called that: transparent tiny triangles of lace and net that certainly don’t hide anything. Dean has seen more female genitalia in the last week than he’s ever seen in the previous twenty-six years of his life, and he’d lived with Sam, who had a pretty hefty porn-watching phase in his late teens. To say it makes him uncomfortable is an understatement, but he knows how to pick his fights. Even when Amara spends as much time as possible brushing up against Cas and it takes everything Dean has not to punch the bitch, he thinks about keeping the peace. Cas for his part ignores her clumsy attempts at seduction, all the while going out of his way to touch Dean in ways of casual intimacy that speaks louder than any awkward sexual undertones would.

Dean can almost taste Amara’s anger, he can see it in the tightness around her eyes and the hardness of her gaze. Dean stumbles into the kitchen, it had been a long night; Cas had been insatiable and Dean’s legs are still a little trembly from the enthusiastic workout. A feeling of warmth blooms in his chest and a smile creeps onto his lips as he rounds the corner to the kitchen. The smile freezes on his lips as he sees Amara. At least she's dressed today in jeans and a tee, she smiles at Dean and it sends a chill down his spine.

“Sit down, little omega,” she says and Dean wants to say ‘hell no’ and escape from this weird alternate reality where Amara is being nice. “I’ve made coffee,” she continues. Dean doesn’t want to accept anything from her hand, but if he's rude it will give her an excuse to punish him and Dean doesn’t want that so reluctantly, he accepts the cup from her and sits down to drink it. She doesn’t make good coffee, that’s for sure; it’s thick and bitter. Cas makes coffee exactly to Dean’s taste, black, rich, and fragrant. Dean smiles as he remembers Cas bringing him coffee in bed the morning after their first consensual night together. Amara returns his smile wide like a crocodile, showing too many teeth to be friendly.

“Thanks for the coffee,” Dean mumbles, looking down into the cup of thick sludge, “I have to get ready for work.” He beats a quick retreat, taking the cup with him and dumping the dregs down the bathroom sink before he brushes his teeth. Cas must’ve already left for work, which means he’ll be traveling with Crowley this morning, which sucks because that dude is seriously creepy. Although Dean’s mouth now tastes minty fresh, his stomach churns and he’s sure it’s because of the bitter brew; it’s sitting there burning his innards and making him feel sick, but Dean’s borne worse so he pulls on a pair of smart slacks and a polo shirt, no need for designer suits anymore, and heads quickly to the atrium, where Crowley is waiting for him as expected.

The short man scowls when he sees the omega, so just to piss him off Dean smiles sunnily at the driver. Fuck him, nothing is going to ruin Dean’s mood, not Amara and her shitty coffee and pretend friendship, and certainly not this imp of a man. Crowley’s face darkens and he turns and hightails it out to the car, not bothering to open the door for Dean, not that he minds; he’s more than capable of opening a door for himself.

The surly beta drives Dean to the office and over the sound of the purring engine Dean is sure he can hear Crowley muttering to himself about ‘uppity omegas’. Instead of pissing Dean off it just makes him smirk, he may be an ‘uppity omega’ but he's still more important than the driver.

“Thank you, Crowley,” Dean says with a wide smile as he lets himself out of the car. ‘Fuck you very much’, he thinks as he strides into the reception area, tipping a wink to Charlie on the way past. He wanted to stop and chat but he’s running late and there’s important work to do. Dean can’t help but notice Charlie's raised eyebrow, and he knows he's in for the third degree once she gets her hands on him.

Dean always feels like he's playing catch-up; working only three days a week isn’t enough. There are so many omegas that need their help, and sometimes Dean feels like he's letting them down. There are so many horrifying tales of abused omegas that Dean wonders how Meg and Ellen prioritize them.

“Dean,” Ellen cried, her eyes are shining, and she sounds breathless as she pokes her head out of her office, “we have some excellent news.” Her face breaks into a beaming smile, she looks just like a teenager at Christmas who has just unwrapped the latest Xbox.

Dean can feel his heart gallop, “What?” he says wrinkling his brow and flapping his hand in a come-on gesture. Patience was never his strong suit.

Ellen pats Dean on the shoulder and continues, “Claire doesn’t have to go back to that man.” Ellen pulls a face like she tastes or smells something really bad as she refers to the despicable alpha who caused so much pain to the young omega. Dean feels tension seep from his body, tension he didn’t even know he was holding. Claire is the omega child of the drunk driver and now she doesn’t have to return to his home.

“Where will she go?” Dean wonders aloud. It is a conclusive win that she doesn’t have to return to the murderer, and although staying in the Omega Center isn’t ideal, it is definitely better than the alternative.

“We’ve found a family member to take her.” Ellen is still smiling but Dean starts to feel slightly nervous, just because it is family doesn’t necessarily mean they will treat Claire well. There is still a lot of prejudice against omegas even within families. Almost as if Ellen can read his mind, her smile softens and she says, “a widowed omega aunty, Dean, she seems really nice. She's wealthy enough to keep them both securely, and due to some clever legal wranglings from her deceased husband she's independent.”

Dean relaxes, but can’t help but ponder about the Aunt. Her husband must have had some clever legal team; it is almost unheard of for an omega to be independent, but Dean feels so happy for Claire, she deserves something good. Dean’s mind wanders, maybe one day he can be independent too, but he’s not even sure that’s what he wants now. He just wants to be with Cas. He feels warm in his stomach, is this what love feels like, security and happiness?  
It’s not every day that the organization gets a win, but when they do it makes it all worthwhile. Sure, the losses hurt, because they mean some poor omega ends up in a shitty situation and that’s not something Dean wants to dwell on, so a win, well that puts a smile on everyone’s face even if it’s only for a day.

Dean busts his ass for the rest of the day, researching such diverse subjects as property law, child abuse, and even corporate takeovers. The firm has recently taken on the case of an omega that had been in a happy loving marriage with a rich alpha whose company had gotten into financial difficulties, and when another corporation had embarked on a hostile takeover they had taken the omega as one of the company assets. The thought of such a thing happening makes Dean shiver.

Dean looks up from where he has been sitting for what must now be several hours; his ass is numb and he has developed a low-level headache- he’s probably dehydrated. Grabbing his coffee, long since cold and with a stomach-churning skin on top, he closes his eyes and downs it before getting up and stretching. God, he needs some water. The office is quiet, Ellen and Meg’s doors are closed so Dean bypasses them and heads for the cooler. He pours and downs a glass of water before he hears a theatrical cough coming from behind him. Without turning he knows exactly who it is.

“Hey, Charlie.” He smiles as he pivots. She's grinning in return, she’s slightly built with an impressive cascade of red hair, shiny and wavy and slightly unruly. She's wearing purple pants and a green Powerpuff Girls t-shirt. Charlie crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow askance. Dean knows how to play this game; he shrugs and opens his eyes wide as a return question.

“Touché” Charlie smiles and then continues, “You, my little omega friend, look like you got down and dirty and enjoyed every filthy moment, so tell Charlie all the grubby details.”

Dean isn’t prone to blushing, or at least he never used to be, but he can feel the flush start under his skin and flame up to his hairline and when it hits his scalp it almost feels like it runs up the follicles and into each individual hair strand; he almost wonders if his hair is as red as Charlie’s now.

Dean isn’t one for sharing but this is Charlie, the sister he never knew he wanted. “Cas and I may have taken our relationship to the next level,” he admits, which tells her a lot but also basically nothing.

‘Deeeeaaan.” she says, making his name sound like it has five syllables.

“Aw, come on, Charlie, I don’t want to give you a blow by blow.” When she grins, he knows he’s chosen the wrong words? For fuck's sake.

“So, there was blowing…”

“Charlie.” he hisses, interrupting her. Dean looks around, making sure no one is listening.

“Look, all I’m going to say is that my relationship with Cas is better,” Dean continues, “Amara is another story. She's not happy, not happy at all, and I’m going to have to watch my back!” Dean sighs and rubs his stomach. Fucking Amara and that awful coffee this morning has given him a stomach-ache that won’t quit.

The humor drops from Charlie’s face, it was clear the excitement of Dean and Cas getting together had made her forget the rather large and glamourous fly in Dean’s ointment.

“Amara,” Charlie says, and she flinches as she says the name, her face contorting as if she tastes something rancid. “Dean, five minutes ago he was fucking her and now…” Charlie raises her eyebrows suggestively. Dean feels his stomach plummet, he had been trying so hard to wipe that particular memory from his mind. He loves Cas and he needs to believe him that that incident meant nothing to him, but it’s hard.

Running his hands through his hair, Dean fixes Charlie with his gaze. “Hate sex,” Dean repeats what Cas had told him, it makes sense, there is no romance or even companionable friendship between the couple.

“Hate sex,” Charlie reiterates, rolling the words around her mouth as if to test them and their validity. “Hmm, I can see that actually. I was surprised when you told me they had had ‘relations’, I mean Cas is… well… Cas and he only has eyes for you so that Amara thing was so unexpected.”

Dean’s mind whirls, Cas only has eyes for Dean.

Almost as if Charlie can read his mind she continues, “He looks at you all the time, sometimes like he's trying to solve a complex puzzle, and other times like he just wants to wrap you up with a fluffy blanket and feed you tomato soup.” Charlie smiles small and sweet and Dean feels warm all over. Does Cas really look at him like that?

Before Dean can interrogate Charlie and find out more about how his and Cas’ relationship looks from the outside, Ellen interrupts with a request for more information.

“This isn’t finished,” he says wagging his finger at Charlie before he heads back to the makeshift library to look up the argument that Ellen requires.

The rest of the day is more of the same, research, pooling ideas and brainstorming until the sun has set and Dean checks his phone, fuck it’s late Cas will be worried.

Dean takes his leave and skids out of the office looking for a grumpy Crowley but finding a rumpled husband in his stead. Cas is napping in the car, looking like a five-year-old. Dean taps on the window and Cas jumps, his eyes unfocussed until they meet Dean’s and then they brighten and his whole face softens as he smiles cheerful and wide. Maybe Charlie is right.

Cas opens the door and envelops Dean in a hug that just makes him melt, all the tensions of the day fade away until all that exists is Cas and Dean. Dean breathes Cas in, his scent is home, familiar but enticing and his strong arms make Dean feel safe. Dean wraps his own arms around his husband’s broad shoulders and lets himself sink into the embrace.

“Cas, thank god. Let’s go home, I’m exhausted,” he says eventually. He hasn’t had enough of the impromptu cuddle, but if he doesn’t break it now then they may just stay there all night.

Cas pulls back and looks at Dean; he can see his bloodshot eyes and bags that just won’t quit. Dean holds his breath, he doesn’t want Cas to stop him working, he’s only so tired because of the stress of having Amara around, of the change in his position yet again.

“Something has to change,” Cas sighs, and in that exhalation, Dean can hear all the frustration the last few weeks have had on Cas. He’s had no choice in all this either, his fucking family has a lot to answer for. “But I don’t even know how to.” Cas turns around and looks over the top of the car into the distance. He huffs and continues. “I can’t get rid of her. I know now that I should have stood up to my family and rejected the match, but hindsight is 20/20 and all that.” Cas leans his forearms on the car and bangs his head against them. “We could be so happy if I had just had a set of balls on me.”

Dean touches his husband’s shoulder and feels the muscles bunch, then relax beneath his designer suit. The material is soft and clings to Cas in all the right places, and well-worth the probably exorbitant price tag. The old Dean would have wanted to make some sort of inappropriate comment about Cas’ balls being plenty big enough, but the new Dean is more sensitive, and the new Dean knows Cas is feeling vulnerable and helpless and Dean knows that feeling only too well.

Cas turns and looks at Dean, “I just don’t know what to do.” He says and his voice is plaintive, and his eyes are shining with unshed tears.

Cas takes Dean’s face in his hands and kisses him soundly. Dean can feel the rasp of Cas’ dry palms against his stubble and taste the tangy warmth of Cas’ unique flavor.

Safety and home, that is what Cas means to Dean, the irony being that he feels safer here outside the apartment than inside with that woman.

Cas snuffles his nose into Dean’s hair and the feeling sends tingles down Dean’s spine, “We should just run away,” Cas laments and Dean just wants to scream yes! Maybe they could go to Canada, omegas are treated just like everyone else there. California is one of the better states, but Canada, that would be Utopia. Dean knows they can’t run, though. Cas has a sense of duty to his family, even his father who is really the cause of all his woes, and Dean can’t leave the Omega Justice Organisation in the lurch. They are just going to have to suck it up and hope that Cas can find some way out of his beta-mating.


	17. Chapter 17

Things around the apartment are completely different in some ways. Dean wakes up daily, snuggled in the warmth of his husband’s loving embrace. Cas often coerces Dean into going running with him, which Dean definitely doesn’t enjoy but he does love the companionship, the fact that it’s just him and Cas pushing their bodies, feeling the breeze against their faces, ruffling their hair, the sweet tang of sweat emanating. Okay maybe Dean does enjoy it, especially when he sees the play of muscles pulling and contracting on Cas’ lean runners’ legs, and the way his husband’s ass looks in the tiny running shorts he favors, well that should be unlawful and for Dean’s eyes only. The very best thing about getting up early to go running with Cas is that Amara is still in her bed and Dean doesn’t have to put up with her cold eyes and her casual flirting with Cas.

The days when Dean has therapy and group are the worst. Cas has to go to work earlier than Dean’s appointment, so Dean has to spend time with that woman. Dean could probably cope with that if Amara was always cold and unpleasant, but sometimes she seems caring, offering Dean coffee and food. It makes Dean’s head spin, he wants to turn down her food and beverages, but he can’t be rude, he doesn’t want to sour her good moods. She can’t cook for shit though; he’d already dismissed her coffee-making skills as awful but who can’t make oatmeal for goodness sake. It always tasted bitter and nasty, but Dean forces a smile and eats it and that seems to please her.

Dean takes his leave and wanders to the parking lot, hoping Crowley is there; he hadn’t been in reception. The squat little man is leaning against the car inspecting his nails, which Dean notices are nicely manicured. He looks up at Dean and scowls, which makes Dean want to laugh, how the heck did this man ever get a job that involves working with the public?

“Hello, Crowley.” Dean says and is surprised when Crowley opens the door for him and says in his deep English accent,“Get in Squirrel, the traffic is awful this morning and you don’t want to be late.”

Dean’s frowns in surprise but doesn’t comment on either the nickname or the fact that Crowley is actually talking to him.

The driver wasn’t wrong, the traffic is diabolical, but he weaves in and out of the lanes on the freeway, and by a wing and a prayer he makes it with a scant few minutes to spare.

Sometimes he wonders why he still has to go to therapy, He's accepted his role, he has a good relationship with Cas and Sam, he hasn’t really seen his dad, but he knows the man is busy running the pack so doesn’t hold that against him. The only thing causing problems is Amara, but Dean’s dealing with that in his own way. Sometimes, he thinks Cas just pays for Dean to have a friend, because that is what it feels like, a visit with a friend.

Benny is like a big burly teddy bear and Dean likes him, a lot. Under any other circumstances, Dean believes they’d be friends anyway. Dean likes his calm manner and gentlemanly Southern accent. Under the placidity, Dean can see strength and the potential for anger but the man keeps it tightly reined in and Dean respects restraint in large men. Sam has always done the same thing, it’s comforting and familiar.

“So…” Benny says, steepling his fingers while leaning on the desk and looking for all the world like the stereotype of a therapist. “How are things going?”

Dean groans, it’s a good question, but the answer would probably take longer than his hour-long slot. Dean tries to sort the thoughts running wild in his head, but that’s an impossible task, so taking the bull by the horns, he starts with the good stuff.

“Well, Cas and I are getting on a lot better.” Dean underplays but something in his face must give the game away because Benny’s eyebrows shoot up.

“…better?” he repeats, and Dean feels heat in his cheeks, fricken omega hormones.

“Okay, we had sex,” they’d had a whole load of sex actually, but Benny doesn’t need the explicit details.

“…and?”

And what, Dean wants to say. “And we liked it?” Dean says but can’t help but phrase it like a question that makes Benny smile.

“Well I’m glad you both liked it, you definitely look better, Brother, and that makes me happy.” Dean smiles in return. He is happy, even with Amara slinking around the apartment, even with the fact that she legally has control over him, he's happy. “I do wonder about Amara…” Benny continues and Dean wonders if Benny can read minds or is Dean really that transparent.

“Cas put her in her place.” Dean says, “She seems to be trying but it’s difficult, neither of us wants her there.” Dean covers his eyes with his hands. “And to make matters worse, Cas fucked her.”

Benny’s eyes widen but he quickly hides his reaction. “He did?”

“Yeah, he said it was hate sex, and I guess it was, but it still hurts that he did it. I know that makes me sound like some sort of omega from one of those trashy novels, but it does hurt.”

“Hmm.” Benny stalls then continues. “I can see why it would hurt, Brother, you gave Cas your trust and he broke it., Maybe it was in the heat of the moment, but he still broke it. Trust can be regained, but it takes time. Are you willing to put in that time, Dean? Do you think Cas is willing to?”

There’s no doubt in Dean’s mind, he's willing to work on this. He loves Cas and he’s already given him this second chance. Cas he's pretty sure will do anything in his power to regain Dean’s trust. Dean nods.

“There is something weird going on with Amara,” Dean says before his brain catches up; he never volunteers information, it’s not in his genetic makeup.

“Weird?” Benny states, doing that annoying repetition thing therapists like to do.

Well in for a penny and all that, Dean continues hesitantly, “She’s being, well,” Dean scratches his head, this all sounds so stupid, “…nice.” Yeah, this sounds really stupid, who complains about someone being nice to them?

Benny taps his fingers on his desk and hums, his face rearranges into several expressions until it arrives back in Benny’s patented ‘therapy face’, open, neutral, and friendly.

“Without any other data I can’t really decide why she's being nice.” he finally says. “There are far too many reasons that I can think of and that’s just off the top of my head. She may be a genuinely nice person?“ he says, framing the last statement like a question to which Dean just shakes his head, Nah, she showed her true colors when she first moved in. Nice is not an adjective Dean would use to describe her. Benny nods and continues, “Maybe she feels bad and wants to change her ways.” Before Dean can address that idea, Benny continues with other suggestions, “or maybe she’s luring you into a false sense of security before she pounces.” That is definitely more like it. “It’s hard to judge, Brother, but if I were you, I would be very careful and watch my back. In the gender pecking order, she's only slightly below Cas, so be very, very careful.”

Dean nods and Benny, still looking thoughtful picks up his diary.

“I think Cas should come in next week and we’ll have a couple’s session.” Dean’s eyes shoot up from the patch of carpet he’d been inspecting.

“Really?” Dean asks breathlessly. This is a good idea, this will give Cas a chance to talk too.

Benny nods, “Yes, this is difficult for Cas too, and I see you both fumbling through, doing the best you can, but I believe I can help you both.” Dean smiles sunnily back at Benny; he believes it too. If anyone had told Dean six months ago that he would be an advocate for therapy then he would have laughed in their faces; now though he appreciates the help. Dean nods and Benny continues, “Is he picking you up today, or will it be that strange, rude man?”

Dean snorts, Crowley is obviously an acquired taste.

“I’m pretty sure it’ll be the ‘rude man’,” Dean chuckles. “He's a strange one that’s for sure, but Cas must like him or else why would he hire him?” Dean feels the color drain from his face at Benny’s reply. 

“I hear that his dad hired him,” Benny says, his whiskey brown eyes assessing. So, what if Chuck Novak hired Crowley? That means nothing. Chuck is a rather weak little man, Dean is pretty sure he's a puppet leader. Even if he hired him to keep an eye on what Cas and maybe even Dean is doing, there’s been nothing of value to report back, Dean is sure of that. If Michael hired him then Dean maybe a little more suspicious, Dean is still pretty sure it was Michael and Zachariah, the minister, that pushed for the beta-mating. Michael wants to undermine Cas because he knows he's the stronger leader and Michael, from the few times Dean has met him, appears ambitious. Cas is going to have to watch his back, doubly so now.

Sadly, Cas isn’t the one picking Dean up and Dean finds he has a bit of a hair up his ass about Cas’ family and so asks Crowley once the car is in motion.

“So, Crowley, do you work for Chuck, Michael, or Cas?”

The driver starts but regains his composure remarkably quickly, Dean is almost impressed.

“Well, Squirrel, I’ll tell you who I don’t work for.” He drawls, “You!”

Dean wasn’t expecting a straight answer, but at least Crowley knows that Dean has suspicions. Crowley doesn’t seem phased by the question, but he does continue by saying.

“I know a few things about dysfunctional families and power plays, and all I will say on the subject is watch your back and that of your dreamy husband’s, too.”

Although the words don’t answer Dean’s question, they do give him a modicum of relief. He’ll have to discuss this further with Cas later.


	18. Chapter 18

When Dean broaches the idea of Cas coming to the next therapy session, Cas is ecstatic.

“Dude, it’s not like I offered you a blow job and a million dollars.” Dean smiles, mirroring Cas’ beatific one that turns distinctly horny at the mention of blow jobs.

“Dean, I just think that couples’ therapy is an excellent idea. We are both in a much better place, but there are definitely still problem areas.” The crash of the front door opening signals one of those ‘problem’ areas. They both listen from the safety of Dean’s room as Amara clatters around the apartment. Dean knows they can’t hide forever but he really wishes they could.

“Amara,“ Dean asks tentatively, “did she want this match or was she forced into it too?” She had seemed a bit too enthusiastic at the mating for it to have been against her will but Dean is willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. He doesn’t know very much about her after all.

Cas sighs and leans forward on the bed resting his elbows on his thighs. He rubs his hands over his face then says, “She used to date Michael. I thought for sure they would marry, but then suddenly out of the blue he took an omega mate, Lilith.” Cas shakes his head, his mouth pursed like he has a bad taste in his mouth. “Amara did not take that well at all. I mean I don’t blame her; he didn’t even bother to break up with her. He just went on a road trip to Vegas and came back mated. She broke every window on Michael’s expensive car, slashed the tires, and I believe there was an incident with Michael’s suits and dogshit.” Dean snorts, the fucker probably deserved it, imagine leading someone on and just dumping them out of the blue. “Anyway, I hadn’t seen or heard anything from her for a few years, and then out of the blue Chuck tells me I’m mating her, and I can see Michael’s fingerprints all over it. I’m so sorry, Dean,” Cas says, getting down off the bed and kneeling before Dean, taking his hands and looking up into his eyes. Cas’ eyes are always the most amazing shade of blue; today they look like a stormy sea just before the rain. “I tried to get out of it. I love you, but her parents are high up in some pack down in Georgia, and Dad needed the connection. Chuck never did know how to say no to Michael’s ideas.” Cas sighs and leans his head on Dean’s lap, and Dean takes the opportunity to rake his hands through his husband’s unruly locks. Hair this messy shouldn’t be so soft.

“It’s alright,” Dean says, even though they both know it isn’t, but it isn’t Cas’ fault. Stupid pack politics have a lot to answer for. Then Dean thinks of something, “I thought your dad wanted you to be his successor?” That was what John had implied and he was generally in the know.

“Yeah, I think that is his preference, but Michael is clinging on by his fingernails in the hope that he will change his mind. I think that is why he foisted Amara on me, he wants me to misstep somehow so he can be the golden child again.”

That makes sense actually, Dean thinks, and it makes it all the more important that Cas doesn’t make any errors. He has to be the pack poster boy, and Dean is going to be the model mate, even if it kills him, and it probably will.

Dean gestures towards the door, “We can’t hide in here forever” he says.

“Urgh.” Cas moans. “I do not want to go out there.”

“Me either, but we can’t alienate her too much, if she's not reporting back to your family, then I’m pretty sure Crowley is.”

Cas nods, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Dean shakes his head and drags himself up. He would rather snuggle with his husband than face the unpleasantness behind the closed bedroom door, but that was just delaying the inevitable, and completely blocking Amara out would be construed as rude and Dean didn’t want her complaining to Chuck about Cas.

Cas groans as Dean takes his hand and tries to drag him to his feet; it isn’t an easy task when Cas is being so non-compliant. Cas plants his feet and pulls him down onto his lap, well this was interesting, Dean smiles and looks at Cas’ handsome face. His skin is smooth but lined around the eyes and forehead, lines which deepen when Cas is frowning or when he grins wide. Dean runs his finger along his forehead, easing the look of consternation and reaching in for a kiss. He can feel Cas’ hands sneak behind his back, slipping sneakily down the waistband of his pants. Much as Dean is down with that plan, he's also hungry, and he knows if he lets Cas have his way, they will never leave the room. With a grunt, he breaks the kiss and jumps up quickly.

“Come on, I’m hungry. Feed your husband.”

Amara’s eyes narrow as they leave the room hand-in-hand. Dean smiles at her and heads for the kitchen planning on cooking something for their evening meal. Cooking has always calmed Dean, and he wouldn’t have to interact too much with Amara, which would be a bonus. The kitchen however is a mess, every pot Cas owns is either on the stove or dirty and in the sink. Something is bubbling away, giving off a very pungent aroma.

“You’re cooking,” Cas says. His voice is even but Dean can sense an undercurrent of anger there. Maybe Cas considers the kitchen to be Dean’s territory because Dean is certainly feeling usurped.

Amara smiles and touches Cas’ arm, making Dean want to rip her hand off.

“Yes, I wanted to make a wholesome dinner for my mate.” she purrs. Dean wants to bash his head against the wall, but he just smiles and tries to look submissive.

“That’s incredibly kind Amara, what are you cooking?” Cas surveys the kitchen, it looks like the aftermath of a small explosion of flour, vegetables, and dairy products.

“I have soup, a roast, and pie for dessert.” Dean’s ears perked up at the mention of pie, but then he remembered how vile her coffee-making skills were, and didn’t hold up much hope for her cooking. “Sit down,” She gestures to Cas, side-eyeing Dean, “Maybe the omega would like to eat in his room.”

The omega would like to eat in his room actually, anywhere away from poisonous Amara, but it feels a bit like being sent to his room like a naughty boy. Dean smiles at Amara and accepts a tray of food, though, which includes a bowl of khaki green looking soup, a small plate of roast, and an individual fruit pie which is the only thing that looks palatable. Dean casts a glance to Cas, who suddenly looks old and careworn, but when he catches Dean’s eye his eyes sparkle, and he smiles broadly. Leaning over he kisses Dean and says, “I’ll see you in a bit.” Dean turns and catches Amara’s toxic gaze and he beats a hasty retreat to the safety of his room.

There’s no way Dean is eating that foul-looking soup, so he pours it down the toilet, tries a few mouthfuls of the roast which seems both dry and undercooked, which is pretty impressive. The pie though is actually okay, the pastry is crisp, and the filling is tart, just how he likes it. There is an odd flavor, Dean wonders whether it’s one of those fancy berries, Goji or Açai, but he doesn’t know because he's much more of a traditionalist when it comes to pies. Even with the slightly odd flavor Dean enjoys it and wolfs it down then lays back on the bed and relaxes. He hopes Cas is okay but then remembers that he's in fact a grown-ass man and surely, he can maintain a conversation with his beta-mate without murdering her.

Dean thinks about his dad and Sam, and wonders whether he can meet up with them soon; maybe he can persuade one or both of them to pick him up from the group on Thursday. He misses them both and could do with a catch-up. While the thought is in his mind, he grabs his phone and calls Sam who is excited to hear from him. God, he’s missed him.

“Dean, I was just going to call you. Dad was just saying we should get together, Thursday sounds good, I’ll pick you up from your group and then we’ll go to the club for dinner. Cas won’t mind, will he?”

Sam already knows the answer to that question, but it was sweet of him to ask. Plans made, they hang up and Dean lets himself drift off to sleep, he has no worries that Cas will sleep with Amara again, so his mind is at ease for once.

Dean awakes when Cas enters the bedroom and when he sits up he almost doubles over in pain.

“You okay?” Cas asks, rushing to Dean’s side and putting the back of his hand against Dean’s forehead.

“I knew that roast was undercooked.” Dean moans as his stomach clenches unpleasantly. Dean sprints for the bathroom and only just makes it before he's throwing up. He collapses to the floor and rests his head against the porcelain. “We must never let her cook again.” He says weakly.

Cas manages a strained laugh, but he looks concerned. He wets a washcloth and places the cool material against Dean’s forehead.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Dean lies, he had thought that throwing up would ease the pains in his gut, but it hadn’t not really. He hadn’t felt right for a few days, maybe weeks. He should really see a doctor but he didn’t have time, and besides it was probably only a bug.

“Bed?” Dean said, trying to drag himself to his feet. His head was spinning and then he felt Cas, sturdy, and supportive, taking his weight and trying to lead him to bed. Dean shook his head, “No I need to clean my teeth, my mouth tastes so bad and it must smell worse.”

Cas smiled and helped him to the sink, a thorough brushing and a gargle with mouthwash later and Dean felt a tiny bit more human. His memory foam mattress and a warm strong husband at his back helped even more and Dean slipped into sleep with Cas’ hand rubbing soothing circles on his achy abdomen.


	19. Chapter 19

Dean woke abruptly and immediately felt his gorge rise again. He sprinted for the toilet before he could soil their bedding. He dry-heaves a few times, feeling both chilled and sweaty. That bitch Amara definitely poisoned him, but if that was the case, how come Cas wasn’t ill? Dean’s brain goes offline for a few moments, maybe longer because he comes back to himself face down on the tiles with Cas fussing over him.

“Dean,” he sighs when he sees Dean’s eyes open. “Thank god,” Cas has his cell phone in hand and Dean knows for sure that the doctor is on the way.

“Are you feeling okay to move to the bed?”

Dean nods and then regrets that life choice when it feels like his brain is loose in his skull and is clanging on the sides. Cas helps him to the bed and once he's lying down leaves and returns with a glass of water. Dean gratefully takes it in his shaky hand and downs it, the cool liquid soothes his abused throat but when it hits his stomach it threatens to come back up. Dean breathes slowly through his nose, willing his body to let him have this, and thankfully his stomach settles enough to keep the water down.

Cas lies next to him, and although they are barely touching it is a comfort, he doesn’t ask how Dean feels, it’s probably quite obvious, but Dean relaxes in his presence. Dean isn’t sure how much time passes before he hears the intercom notifying the doctor has arrived, because time seems like a nebulous thing, expanding and contracting, racing then stumbling along. There is a knock on the door and then Amara’s sour face pops around the edge to announce the doctor, She casts a glance in Dean’s direction and he can’t quite read it, there’s no sympathy there but there’s definitely something, Dean can’t put his finger on it as his brain is not quite firing correctly.

The doctor is an older man, with dark intelligent eyes, he introduces himself as Doctor Uriel and waves pleasantries aside as he sets down to examine Dean. He checks his vitals efficiently and hums under his breath.

“Blood pressure is quite low, heart-rate is high, and he appears dehydrated, which would make sense as he has vomited quite a bit. His throat is inflamed but tea with honey should help that. I think I would like to admit him for IV fluids and to run some additional checks.”

And it probably says something about how ill Dean feels that he can’t find it in himself to argue the toss.

Here he's back at the beginning, this could almost be the same room, the same anonymous white tiles, yellow lighting that makes everyone look sallow and the same interchangeable staff.

Dean is prodded and poked by a range of Doctors, some of which wrinkle their brows, others keep a professional neutral expression on their faces, but Dean knows they have found something. 

It’s the pretty brunette Doctor from a lifetime ago that finally tells him,

“You’re pregnant.” Dean looks at her blankly while Cas grabs his hand and holds on with a death grip.

“That’s impossible,” Dean says when he finally finds his voice. “I’m on suppressants.”

The Doctor sits down next to the bed, never breaking eye contact. “Dean you know they aren’t one hundred percent effective and unfortunately,” she raises an eyebrow in a hopeful expression, “or fortunately, in this case, you were one of the three-point four percent that managed to get pregnant”

Fuck.

Dean turns to Cas, whose expression could only be described as shell-shocked. Dean imagines his own is much the same. It’s not that he’s never wanted children, he just thought he never would, and he definitely didn’t think that he would be the one carrying said children.

“What happens now, Doc?” Dean asks, for want of a better question. His mind is too busy to articulate anything further.

“Well, firstly, you can call me Pam, it’s Doctor Pamela Barnes if you want to give me the full fancy-schmancy title.” She smiles at Dean and takes the other hand that isn’t currently being squeezed by his preternaturally quiet husband. “We’ll finish your IV fluids and they should make you feel a whole lot better. As to the vomiting, it could be morning sickness or you could have acquired a bug, we’re running some tests, but I can’t see any reason why we can’t discharge you once the IV has finished. I can recommend an omegstetrician or of course, you can do your own research.”

That’s when Cas seems to come back online. “we’ll take your recommendation, Doctor Barnes,” he says and the brunette laughs

“You can call me Pam too, sweetcheeks.” She reaches over and pinches Cas’ cheek and laughs. Cas flushes and follows the doctor out of the room to collect the recommendations leaving Dean with his racing thoughts.

A baby. One that Dean will carry in his body. Fuck Dean still isn’t happy with his new anatomy, and this is one helluva reminder that everything has changed. A baby though, a tiny person to care for and love, that might make everything worth it in the end. He and Cas will be a real family, which of course brings his thoughts to her again. Double fuck. How the hell is this going to work?

Although Dean is grateful to get out of the hospital, his head is still spinning as Cas opens the door to the apartment.

“We’re going to have to move.” he muses as he puts a hand on Dean’s back to guide him inside.

“Why’s that?” comes an unwelcome voice, breaking Dean’s brief dream about a small cottage, complete with swing set in the garden. Amara. It was never going to be just Dean, Cas, and their cute offspring.

“Amara,” Cas says, his voice is even but Dean can hear the fatigue underlying it. Dean wishes he could feel anger at her, but it’s not really her fault, she didn’t steal Cas, his family gave Cas to her wrapped in a shiny bow and now they all have to live with it. “We’ll talk later, let me get Dean settled.

Dean lets Cas settle him in bed, provides him with drinks, snacks, and books then heads out to talk to Amara.

Dean doesn’t try and listen, he really doesn’t, besides all he can hear is the staticky murmur of their voices. No one is shouting so that’s good, right? Dean can’t help but think back to when Amara had said that if Dean had children, then she and Cas would raise it as their own. That is going to happen over Dean’s cold, dead body.

The apartment is lovely, but it isn’t really ideal for raising a family, Cas is right about that. If only Amara wasn’t on the scene then he and Cas could run away and have a small house and keep bees just like Cas wants. In Dean’s experience, dreams don’t come true unless they’re nightmares. The bottom line is that somehow, the three of them are going to have to make this work, because if they can’t then something is going to have to give, and Dean knows that legally it will probably be him that has to go.

Later Cas comes into the room, he looks grim, the little forehead lines look deeper than usual and his normally tan face looks pale, but when he sees Dean, he manages a sunny smile.

“Hey,” he says, settling himself next to Dean and putting a cup of tea down next to him, “How are you feeling?”

“A lot better, thanks.”

“Amara made you a cup of tea. I think it’s a peace offering.” Cas says and lays his head on the pillow next to Dean. “she isn’t happy about, well, anything really.”

Dean snorts, that sounds about right.

Cas continues, “..but she says she will try, I have been very explicit with her, told her that I love you, that I mated her at the behest of my family and that I will always look after her, but you and I are a love match.”

A love match, that makes Dean feel a glow somewhere around his midsection, yeah what he and Cas have is a love match and if he has to put up with Amara to keep that then he will. He takes a look at the cup of tea, maybe she's willing to try, and if she's, then so will he. Dean hitches himself up and takes a sip of the tea, it actually doesn’t taste too bad, definitely better than her coffee or cookery skills. It’s sweet and herby and soothing on his throat so he drinks it down then settles next to Cas and lets the warmth of his husband’s presence lure him to sleep.


	20. Chapter 20

The next morning Dean has a small disagreement with Cas. Cas wants him to stay home and rest, but Dean really wants to go to group. Sam has promised to pick him up and he hasn’t seen him for such a long time and then they were going to go and meet up with John. Dean has been really looking forward to it, and although he knows they could reschedule he’s had his heart set on seeing them today.

“Cas,” he wheedles, because apparently that is something he does now, “It’ll only be a couple of hours, and if I feel unwell, I’ll come straight back here, I’ll either be at group or with my family.”

Cas looks stricken, so Dean quickly blurts out, “My other family,”

“Good catch,” Cas laughs, “You are my family, Dean,”

“And you are mine. I’m sorry I don’t say it enough.” Dean says and reaches up and kisses Cas, slow and sweet.

“Aww, now you’re not playing fair.” His husband moans but the small smile on his face tells Dean he isn’t really upset. “Okay, of course, you can go, but promise me, Dean, if you feel at all unwell, call me and I’ll come and get you.”

“I promise,” Dean responds and kisses Cas again, just because he can.

xxXXXxx

Group used to be a chore for Dean, but now it feels like a sanctuary. He has his little selection of friends, Charlie, Jess, and even Gadreel and Ruby. He waves at the girls and hurries to his seat.

“So,” he says, “Apparently I’m knocked up.”

Charlie and Jess’s faces contort in all sorts of strange positions while Ruby just laughs.

“I didn’t even know you wanted children.” Charlie says at the same time Jess says “Congratulations.”

“I didn’t and thanks,” Dean says. “It was a shock, apparently suppressants aren’t a hundred percent effective! Who knew? Not me, obviously!”

“Wow,” says Charlie, “unexpected baby, but not unwanted?” she enquires.

Dean shakes his head, “I never imagined having children, but no, I quite like the idea of a little Cas running around, he will be quiet and serious just like his dad.”

“Haha,” says Ruby, “What happens if he ends up a little spitfire like his other dad?”

Dean looked skyward and put his finger to his lip as if contemplating the question. “Welllll.” He drawls “if I can’t have a quiet geek then I would want the cool kid.”

“As if you were ever the cool kid.” Ruby laughs.

“I most certainly was.” And he had been until the coach had stolen his innocence, then he had become less cool and more a quiet conformist, hoping not to be noticed.

“Yeah I’ll need photographic proof of that,” She sniggers then kisses him on the cheek, “congratulations big guy, hope you get your happily ever after.”

Dean did too.

xxXXXxx

Dean was talking to Jess as they wandered out of the hall and he ran slap bang into six and a half feet of alpha brother, whose scent turned sweet and interested when he saw Jess.

“Hey, Dean,” Sam says but he can’t tear his eyes from Jess who is blushing a pretty shade of pink. “Who’s your friend?”

Dean groans, Sammy was never any good at pick up lines, it was surely only his good looks that ever got him laid.

“Jess this idiot is my little brother. Little brother this is Jess and she's a lady so no cheap pick up lines, please.”

Jess snorts and then looking horrified covers her mouth with her hand, which grazes the edge of her scar and she goes pale. She looks up at Sam and offers him a small smile, “I almost forgot I had that for a moment,” she traces the scar. “You made me feel normal.”

“You are normal,” Sam says, a crease marring his forehead. “You’re beautiful, actually.” He reaches out his hand and touches hers gently, moving it away from where it is hiding her face.

Jess smiles, a little brighter but still the wrong side of sad. “Thank you,” she looks up, “Oh that’s my ride,” she says as she sees the Omega Center bus, “It was nice to meet you, Sam.”  
“Nice to meet you, too.”

Dean feels like he’s been watching a tennis match. Sam and Jess have chemistry, there’s no doubt about that, he can smell the way their scents curl around each other in a pleasant and really complimentary way.

Jess skips to the bus and turns just as she gets in smiling and waving, Dean is pretty sure she isn’t waving at him either, seems his brother has made a friend.

“Sam?” Dean says and he sees his brother smiling back at Jess, his eyes are soft and his scent smells like a summer’s day, full of promise.

Sam watches as the bus disappears then turns to Dean, “Hmm, did you say something?”

Dean shakes his head, “No Sam, but I do have something to say. Don’t mess with that girl, she’s had a hard time, and omega or not, I will whoop your ass if I have to.”

Sam’s face falls. “Dean I would never…” he doesn’t complete the thought, but Dean knows what he means. Sam is honorable. Sam is a romantic. Maybe he and Jess will have a forever together. Dean doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but maybe Sam and Jess will change his mind. He hopes so.

xxXXXxx

Sam drives Dean to the club. It’s not what most people would call a club, it’s not an upmarket country club or a secret BDSM club. It’s just a small restaurant on Winchester Pack grounds consisting of a few tables, a bar, and a cook that can grill some pretty awesome burgers and steaks. John is waiting at the table, he looks like he’s aged about twenty years in the six months since Dean’s seen him. He doesn’t seem so large and imposing, it’s like he’s been worn down, but when he sees Dean his face lights up and he drags his eldest son into a bone-crushing hug. Dean stifles his surprise, they were never really huggers, more of a many pat on the back or handshake. This is nice, though, and Dean lets himself sink into the hug and inhale his father’s whiskey and sunshine scent.

“Dean, son, I’ve missed you.” his gruff father says, and the man that doesn’t express emotions suddenly looks lost. Dean can feel his eyes start to fill and angrily tries to force the tears away, he doesn’t want his dad to see him as a weak omega, but he can’t help the reaction. He’s missed his family.

“Dad, it’s really good to see you.” Then Dean smiles and feels a lot of the stresses of the recent few weeks lift from his shoulders. His dad is here, and John has always made things better.

Dean orders a huge steak with fries and cornbread, after all, he's eating for two now. His stomach feels much better today and maybe it was telling his friends and receiving their support that has relieved some of the anxiety, or maybe his stomach is just settling down. Whatever it is, he’s grateful. There are few enough pleasures in life, but eating is one of Dean’s favorites.

When Sam offers to get Dean a beer and he refuses, the table goes quiet. Dean knows he's going to have to confess everything, but from the dumbstruck look on his dad and Sam’s face, Dean’s pretty sure he doesn’t have to say anything.

“You’re pregnant,” Sam says, his face is pale, but his eyes are sparkling with excitement.

Dean nods dumbly. “Yeah, it wasn’t exactly planned but we’re happy-ish,” Dean admits.

“Happy-ish?” John says, raising an eyebrow, “He hasn’t forced you into something you’re not happy about?” his voice gets louder and louder. Dean looks around, embarrassed, but there’s only one other table occupied and they’re pretending not to notice the commotion.

“No Dad,” Dean hisses, “I’m perfectly happy with Cas. It’s her, Amara, that’s the problem.”

“Yeah, I heard about that,” John says, scrubbing his hand through his beard. “If I’d known that’s what they planned I would never have agreed to the mating. I’m pretty sure it was nothing to do with old Chuck, rumor has it Michael is making a play for the top position and Amara is working with him.”

“I don’t see how she could be, he dumped her for Lilith, and she hates Michael.”

“Or does she?” Says Sam. “I heard some gossip from Gabe that Michael, Lilith, and Amara enjoy a very close relationship, even after Michael’s mating.”

“But then why did he make Cas take her as his beta-mate, why didn’t Michael?” Dean asks.

“I don’t know, but I don’t trust any of them, except maybe Chuck,” says John.

“Watch your back, Dean. Amara has an agenda, and I’m pretty sure you’ll be collateral damage in any of her plans.” Sam continues. “We’ll keep our ears to the ground out here but you be doubly careful now that you’re carrying my little nephew or niece.”

Dean nods, his mind flying over various scenarios, settling on one then disregarding it and flittering onto the next. Why would Michael plant Amara in Cas’ household? It’s obvious he wants to be pack alpha, but Chuck wants Cas in that role, and if Amara is spying then she’s not going to have anything to report back that would make Cas ineligible for the role. It just doesn’t make any sense. One thing is for sure, Dean needs to be extra careful with Amara, and so does Cas.


	21. Chapter 21

Meeting up with Sam and his dad makes Dean feel nostalgic. Until he saw them again, he didn’t realize how much he had missed them. Their acceptance of his pregnancy means the world to Dean, especially as he’s still not sure exactly how he feels about it. Dean’s life is a turbulent sea of uncertainty and Cas is his anchor, his safety from the storm. If only it was just he and Cas, then Dean would be content with his lot, omega or not, but all the intrigue and weird deceptions are causing him stress.

Today has been a good day, he has seen his friends, Dean snorts to himself and Sam turns to look at him, one eyebrow raised.

“Just thinking,” Dean says, and Sam casts his eyes back to the road as Baby purrs like the well-oiled machine she's. “I was thinking about the people I met at the Omega Support Group, they’re people I never would’ve met under any other circumstances. I certainly wouldn’t have become friends with them.”

“Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows,” Sam says and Dean nearly quips that he’s not sharing a bed with any of them but thinks better of it. He’s not that man anymore, and Sam is right. Just because this weird circumstance has brought them together, it’s their strange and complementary mix of personalities that makes them friends, and Dean is grateful for each and every one of them. Even Ruby. They all help to keep him sane, and he hopes his support helps them too.

Sam pulls up to the apartment block and idles the car. Dean really wants him to come up and be a buffer between him and Amara, but he knows that Sam is exceptionally busy now that he’s had to take on all Dean’s duties too, so he reaches over and drags his brother into a hug. Dean’s not normally one to initiate contact, but he needs comfort now and Sam, of course, the cuddle monster, is more than happy to comply.

“I love you,” Sam says and Old Dean would have found that too mushy, but New Dean feels himself melt and replies,

“You too, Bitch.”

“Jerk.” Sam sniggers and smacks Dean on the back a little too hard, the bitch doesn’t know his own strength.

“Let’s not leave it so long next time,” Dean says, and he sees Sam color a little.

“I’m sorry, I’ve just been swamped.”

“No Sam, I’m not blaming you, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate. It’s just that I miss you and Dad.”

“Yeah, me too. We’ll definitely make sure we meet up again soon. Now go home to your husband.”

Dean smiles and gets out of the car, using his sleeve to rub a handprint off the door. Some people don’t know how to look after a beautiful beast like Baby. Sam shakes his head and guns, the car leaving Dean standing at the curb. Bitch.

Dean hustles to the elevator. Sam should have really walked him in, but Dean’s a big boy and at least he had been in the sightline of the concierge.

As Dean watches the numbers change in the elevator he silently prays, ‘please let Cas be at home,’ although he knows in his heart that he’ll still be at the office and Dean will have to play nice with Amara. At least she’s been more pleasant recently. Even when Cas isn’t around, she hasn’t said anything obscene, like Dean, is just a hole for Cas’ pleasure, and she even seems interested in the baby. Dean still doesn’t trust her, but he will tentatively accept this small détente.

Unlocking the apartment door, Dean can hear her singing in the kitchen. Her voice sounds sweet and pure, which strikes Dean as odd, considering she's the polar opposite of sweet and pure.

“Hello, Dean,” she says from the kitchen. Oh hell, she’s cooking again. She smiles kindly at Dean, “you should come and sit down, you’ve had a long, and I’m sure tiring day.”

Dean does feel quite tired, and although he’d rather run and hide in his room, he goes and sits at the kitchen table while Amara potters around his kitchen.

“Dean. I think we got off on the wrong foot.” Amara says, “I may have treated you poorly in the beginning,”

She places a cup of tea in front of Dean, “Just herbal tea with some of Castiel’s honey,” she says then continues her earlier train of thoughts. “I didn’t realize Castiel had feelings for you. His family said he had mated you for political reasons, so I presumed that Castiel and I would have something more,” she says as if that explains everything as if that excuses her behavior.

“It’s fine.” Dean lies and he isn't even really sure why he's bothering; except that after what his father and Sam had told him, it wouldn’t hurt to ingratiate himself into her affections. “I’m still getting used to how omegas are treated.” he continues, and that actually is true. She nods as if she's agreeing with him.

“Yeah, I can see that. It must be hard, particularly now that you’re pregnant. You must find that particularly emasculating.”

Her eyes glitter with some undefined emotion, fear, cruelty, hatred, Dean isn’t sure, but one thing is indisputable – it’s nothing good.

Dean smiles broadly at her, “You would think, so wouldn’t you? But strangely I’m really happy about it. I’ve always loved children. Never thought I would have any of my own, I thought I would be the cool uncle,” Dean smirks as he thinks about all the ways he could have corrupted Sam’s offspring. Taking them for beers, tattoos, to see strippers- yeah he would have been the coolest uncle. God, he hopes Sammy doesn’t have similar ideas about spoiling his child, surely Sam is the sensible one, but it doesn’t stop a trickle of sweat trickling down the back of Dean’s neck. Amara is looking at him strangely so Dean continues “but here I am, and hopefully I’ll be the cool dad.

Darkness flitters across Amara’s face before she conceals it with a smile of her own.

“Well, in that case, congratulations Daddy!”

“I’ll drink to that,” Dean says and tips his cup towards Amara and takes a sip of the tea. She definitely makes better tea than coffee, and Dean supposes that since he’s knocked up, he should probably lay off the caffeine anyway.

The next few weeks pass in relative calm. The uneasy truce holds, and Dean, Cas, and Amara actually spend some time together watching television, cooking, and even cleaning together. Dean can’t honestly say that he likes or trusts her, but she can be quite agreeable, especially when Cas is around. Dean wonders whether she's worried about her place within the household once the baby arrives. After all, Cas still comes to bed with him night after night, and Amara goes off to bed alone. He still can’t work out her agenda, or if she even has one. Then there’s Crowley, he’s being less unpleasant too, and Dean is starting to wonder whether the driver is just a grumpy man and not some super spy reporting back to the Novak pack. There’s very little for him to report. He drives Dean to therapy, group and work, it’s not like there’s anything illegal going on. Dean tries not to think about it too much while still being careful and watchful.

Amara cooks occasionally, and always makes Dean special herbal tea, he thinks it might be a peace offering, one he doesn’t mind accepting especially now that he has a little potbelly that Cas loves to stroke in the deep of night when all is quiet. The baby has mellowed Dean, he’s still vigilant, but he doesn’t feel hatred for Amara anymore. He feels happy and slightly more secure.

Sometimes, Dean and Amara even sit at the kitchen table and talk.

“Dean, you need to be careful,” she says out of the blue one day. “You can’t trust alphas. They will promise you the world but sometimes…” Dean can see her eyes sparkle with unshed tears. She swipes at her eyes angrily. “Sometimes they fucking lie.”

Dean knows Michael hurt her. Even if she doesn’t say it explicitly, he can tell by her demeanor. He thinks it’s the most honest he has seen her.

“Dean, I don’t love Cas, not like you do.” She continues, “I love Michael and he's an ass.” She rests her head in her hands and sighs. “I’ve done a bad thing. I’ve done a really bad thing.” Suddenly she's sobbing and Dean puts his hand on her shoulder to comfort her, but she pushes it off, “Don’t be nice to me. I don’t deserve it.” She gets up from the table and rushes from the room. Dean finishes his tea and thinks about how he will never understand women.


	22. Chapter 22

“So,” Cas says, stroking Dean’s tummy, leaving a little trail of gooseflesh and a weird fluttering within, Dean is loath to call it the baby kicking, but deep inside he wonders whether it is or not. Cas’ brow furrows and he places his hand firmly against Dean’s abdomen, it feels almost scalding, then Cas leans forward and places his cheek next to his hand. “I think our little one is kicking,” he beams, a smile wide and toothy breaking on his face.

“Really?” Dean asks breathlessly, “wasn’t sure.” Dean chuckles, “I thought it was gas.” He places his hand next to Cas’ and feels the little quivering there. “Wow.” Dean feels true awe, how can a whole little person be growing inside him?

“I can’t wait to meet him or her,” Cas says looking up at Dean then turning and planting the softest of kisses on Dean’s slightly protruding belly. And just for a moment, everything is perfect. 

Until it isn’t.

Dean wakes to an explosion in his abdomen. It's different from morning sickness, and he can feel his heart trip over itself as sweat runs down his forehead. Cas is still sleeping, looking all warm and rumpled. Dean wants nothing more than to snuggle down with his husband, but the pain is bright flashes of searing heat, and he doesn’t know whether he wants to throw up or just double over. Just to be safe, he stumbles to the bathroom and barely makes it before he loses the contents of his stomach which is foul-smelling and green. Just the sight and smell of it makes Dean heave again. He vomits until he's just dry-heaving and his head is pounding, but it hasn’t eased the pain in his middle. He feels like he's being ripped apart, he can feel his innards being torn from within.

“Cas,” he rasps, his voice practically stripped by the foul vomitus. “Cas, help.”

That’s when he notices the dampness in his underwear.

“Cas!” Dean screams, the pain in his abused throat nothing compared to the pain in his midsection. His damp palms slip against the porcelain as he tries to push himself upright, but his heart is pounding, and the world starts spinning just as his legs and arms give out as one and suddenly, he's looking up into the panicked eyes of his mate who is gripping him tightly.

“Something’s wrong.” Dean manages to croak as the darkness seeps in from the edges of his vision and Dean lets his eyes close praying Cas will save him and their child.

xxXXXXxx

Dean must have overslept. His alarm’s going off, and the persistent beeping is getting on his nerves, but he can’t seem to reach over to switch it off. He doesn’t feel well, maybe he could take a sick day. He’s never taken a day off, so he’s surely entitled. God, he feels ill, both sick and in pain, what an awful combination.

Groaning, he tries to move his arm so he can find that fucking alarm clock, but his arm seems really heavy.

“Guh,” he groans.

“Dean,” he recognizes that voice.

“Cas?” Dean forces his eyes open; they feel so heavy. Dean sees Cas looking down at him. He looks pale and scared, but when Dean opens his eyes and looks at him, Cas smiles and the lines of worry on his face smooth out.

“Dean, thank god, I thought I’d lost you.” Cas leans his forehead against Dean’s as if to check he's really alright.

“What happened?” Dean’s memories come back in snapshots, first pain, then purging, then… “Oh, the baby!” Dean says, he reaches his hand down towards his abdomen and then realizes why he couldn’t move it, he has an IV in his wrist dripping cold, clear fluid into his veins. Moving his other hand, he feels his perfectly flat abdomen. “oh,” he repeats.

“I’m so sorry,” Cas says, and Dean can see that his eyes are full of pain.

“What happened?” Dean asks feeling so empty, both physically and emotionally.

“The doctors are running tests.” Cas looks devastated but he takes Dean’s hand, and the warmth is a small comfort. “They think you were poisoned.”

Dean can feel his brow crease. Poisoned? That doesn’t make any sense. Cas nods and sighs.

“The police have arrested Amara.” Dean’s blood chills at those words. They had become, well, not exactly friends, but there had been an understanding. Cas shakes his head like he can’t believe it either. “She poisoned you with yellow sprigant seed. It was meant to stop you from conceiving. She didn’t know you were on suppressants, not that they worked anyway.” Cas pauses for a breath, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on Dean’s hand. “the poison causes miscarriage and can also cause the death of the omega, too.” Dean thinks back to his Gender Studies class and thinks he remembers being told that in the days before suppressants, desperate omegas took the seeds as a contraceptive. It had caused a lot of deaths and had been banned for years. How Amara had managed to get her hands on it was a mystery.

“Why.” Dean rasps, his throat raw. “I don’t understand.”

“She loves Michael and would do anything for him.” Dean feels like cold water has been thrown over him. He remembers that weird conversation about Michael and how she was a bad person. “He wanted to take over the pack, and he thought that if you were unwell, or unable to conceive, that that would distract me.” Cas squeezes Dean’s hand, “He was right, of course. He knows I love you and that I was more concerned about making you happy than running the pack. I want to believe that he didn’t want to kill you, but I have my doubts.” Cas looks overwhelmed, for all Michael’s machinations, Dean has to remember that he's Cas’ brother, but then Cas reaches in and kisses Dean’s cheek, “If you had died then… well, it doesn’t bear thinking about.” Cas looks away around the hospital room, his voice suddenly quiet and Dean wonders whether he was meant to hear as Cas whispers, “it would have killed me, too.”

Dean sighs and feels tears prickle at his eyes and thinks aloud, “Amara would be your mate, and even if you took over the pack, she would be able to influence things. Or maybe you would be too upset, and let Michael take the position,” Dean says. It sort of makes sense in a warped, psychopathic sort of way.

Suddenly Dean feels weary. He was just getting used to being pregnant. He was really still getting used to being an omega, and now suddenly his baby is gone and Dean feels bereft. He feels Cas’ thumb wiping away a tear that he hadn’t realized was trickling down his cheek.

“Dean,” Cas sighs, “I am so sorry. I let my family force me into this. We could’ve been happy, and now it’s all spoilt.”

Dean feels like crap. He can’t process the loss of the baby because his mind is racing and addled by some good painkillers, but there is one thing he does know.

“Cas, it’s not your fault. It’s your brother’s, and to a lesser extent, Amara. I think she tried to tell me how Michael was manipulating her, but I didn’t let her finish.” Dean looks at Cas, he's beautiful and strong, and Dean is not going to let this break him. “Our lives are not ruined,” he says adamantly, “what has happened to us is horrendous and we are going to need time to process and grieve,” Dean snorts sadly, “okay it’s really fucking horrendous, but we’re strong, we’re stronger than those that are trying to tear us apart. We’re already a family, Cas, but one day”, Dean feels a tear trickle down his cheek but ignores it, “hopefully, one day our family will grow, and we’ll be the best parents ever.” Dean pulls Cas down for a kiss and their lips crash together, cold and hard but full of emotion. Cas pulls back looking at Dean, his blue eyes are stormy full of love, “You and me Cas, we’re stronger together.”

Dean knows that they have to mourn their loss and that Cas has to deal with his brother’s betrayal. It’s going to be hard and probably traumatic, but they have a good support system. They have Benny, and Dean has his group, they have Sam and John, and even Chuck- who was so horrified with Michael’s behavior that he banished him from the pack and subsequently incarcerated pending trial for the attempted murder of Dean. Most importantly Dean is going to look after Cas, and he knows for damn sure that Cas is going to take care of him.


	23. Chapter 23

Dean follows his nose to the kitchen, thanking whatever god is smiling down on him today that he's out of the hospital and that his gorgeous husband has apparently made coffee. Dean still feels out of sorts, he’s desperately sad that their baby died, even though they didn’t get a chance to meet him or her. Dean had barely reconciled his feelings about being an omega before his surprise pregnancy, but now he wants a family more than anything. The doctors say he has to wait, and Cas is adamant that they follow the doctor’s orders. Dean’s all for throwing caution to the wind, but his husband is unyielding, damn him! And the new super-strong suppressants Dean is on make him ravenous.

Dean enters the kitchen and his jaw drops and his mouth dries up. Cas is wearing one of his Led Zep t-shirts’ and from the look of it, nothing else. Cas reaches up to close a cupboard and Dean gets a glimpse of a firm, round ass that is a sight to behold.

Dean sneaks up behind his mate, and can’t resist running his hands over the soft, firm flesh peeking out from beneath the ragged old t-shirt.

Cas hums his approval and turns, pulling Dean into his arms and slipping a hand down the back of Dean’s well-worn PJ bottoms.

“Fair’s fair,” Cas says before covering Dean’s mouth with his own.

Dean sighs and melts into the smooch, his husband can certainly kiss. He kisses with his whole body, his whole being. He wraps Dean in his arms, never breaking contact, his lips greedy for all that Dean can offer, and Dean’s willing to give Cas everything.

Cas is beautiful, from his striking blue eyes to his tight yoga-honed body, to his strength of character and his charitable nature, Dean is surely the luckiest mate in the world.

Cas’ hands slide over Dean’s body, slow and firm, and Dean can’t help the gasp that escapes from his mouth. He’s not ashamed of the noises he makes, not anymore, he likes the effect they have on his mate, he likes to watch Cas’ eyes darken, and hear the catch in his breath. Yeah, watching Cas get excited by Dean’s arousal causes a chain reaction within Dean’s body, and there’s only one way this is going to end, with both of them sweaty and sated.

Cas kisses Dean’s neck, and Dean can feel gooseflesh erupt outward. Cas chuckles darkly and moves his mouth down his mate’s neck, his tongue leaving a cold trail in its wake. Dean feels his stomach muscles tighten then relax as Cas mouths at first one nipple then the other. God, if this gets any better, Dean’s going to explode. He throws his head back as Cas wends his way down Dean’s body, pausing briefly to kiss Dean’s hip bone and eliciting a giggle as he tongues his navel. Dean raises his head and takes in Cas’ dark tousled hair, his mate looks up, his eyes more black than blue and a devilish smile on his face.

“Ticklish? We’ll have to explore that later,” he says darkly. “I have more important things to attend to right now.” Dean’s cock perks up hopefully. He didn’t think it could get any harder, but he was wrong. He bangs his head back on the pillow with a groan, his husband will surely kill him.

“Cas,” he whimpers, but his husband’s only reply is to keep kissing down Dean’s body. 

So. 

Fucking. 

Slowly. 

Dean needs so badly, but he also loves the anticipation. Cas’ mouth is so close to where Dean so desperately wants it to be, so close he can feel the warmth of Cas’ breath caressing his dick and he can feel a drip of precum slip down his shaft.

Dean can hear words, frantic words like, “please,” “Cas,” and “need,” he doesn’t realize they are coming from his mouth because the world seems far away, there is just him and Cas, their bodies warm and real, moving against each other, a physical manifestation of their love. Then just when Dean can feel his orgasm build within him caused only by the soft breath on his cock, Cas finally takes him into his mouth, wet heat surrounds Dean’s dick and it’s game over. He comes like an avalanche, hard and fast, gaining momentum as his husband sucks him down, that clever mouth with those plush pink lips coaxing the best orgasm Dean has ever experienced.

Dean half-sits to watch as Cas pulls off, his mate’s grin wicked as he wipes the cum from his mouth. Dean’s cock valiantly tries to harden, but even with the visual of his hot-as-sin husband, he can’t manage it. Dean reaches forward and grabs Cas’ face and pulls him in for a kiss. It’s messy and uncoordinated, and Cas tries to climb up the bed, and Dean is leaning forward in an awkward position, but it is still one of the best kisses he’s ever experienced. He can taste himself on Cas, dark and musky, and it shouldn’t be hot, but it is. He can feel Cas’ erection rubbing against his thigh, so thick and hard, he must be in pain.

“Dean,” Cas groans when he breaks the kiss, his voice is deep and dark like pebbles rasping against each other in a shady brook. Dean can see the need, the desperation in his mate’s eyes and he knows how to ease it. He pulls Cas down on top of him opening his legs in invitation. Cas moans as he surges forward and catches Dean’s mouth with his own.

The feel of Cas’ mouth on his, Cas’ teeth nibbling at Dean’s lower lip, the pain adding to the overload of sensation. Dean can feel Cas settle between his legs and for an instant he flashes back to that night, but Dean chases that memory away angrily, no, he will not let it spoil what he has with Cas. Dean opens his eyes and looks at Cas, he's perfect, his mate is looking at Dean with concern painting those amazing eyes, and Dean doesn’t want that now, he wants those eyes to be dark with lust. He runs one hand down Cas’ face, his skin is warm and the stubble rasps softly against Dean’s palm. Cas smiles down and moves in to kiss again.

Dean lifts his legs and wraps them around Cas’ thighs and can feel Cas at his entrance, with a sigh Dean uses his thighs to pull Cas in.

Time stops. There’s pain, fleeting thankfully, and then an intense feeling of fullness. Cas is a warm solid presence, above him, within him. It’s too much and Dean can feel tears prickle at his eyes, this is how it’s meant to be, joined as one with the one you love. Cas is breathing raggedly in Dean’s ear and he can feel the tension in his mate’s body as he resists moving too soon, but Dean is ready now, he needs this, he wants Cas to lose control and take what he needs, what they both do.

“Dean,” Cas gasps and Dean tightens his thighs and pulls his husband in causing them both to moan. It’s so good it should be illegal, the friction of the push and pull, the juxtaposition of the fullness then hollowness it all adds to the mounting tension within Dean’s body. Then Cas hits him just right and Dean’s pleasure peaks with a moan he works with Cas meeting his thrusts and echoing his groans as they both career towards their mutual climaxes. Dean wants to be selfless and giving, he wants to make this good for Cas, but his body is moving of its own volition chasing his own orgasm, Cas seems down with that plan, his sexy voice urging Dean on with words of love and worship.

“So beautiful, so hot…” Dean can feel his own climax tumbling forward like a bowling ball crashing down the alley, and he can hear his husband’s strangled groan as he comes with a sob and a flush of warmth fills Dean and he crests the wave himself and everything goes white.

xxXXXXxx

“Do you know what I love about you?” Cas asks later, disheveled and sweaty,.Dean looks at his husband, hair in disarray, his muscles glinting in the low light and highlighted by perspiration and thinks to himself that he's the most beautiful man he has ever seen. Then, after feasting his eyes, he remembers he had been asked a question.

“Hmmm, no,” Dean smiles and stretches languorously, “what do you love about me?”

Cas returns his grin, toothy and wide, it chases his worry lines away and makes him look for all the world like a naughty teenager.

“Well, everything of course.” He replies, reaching across and touching Dean’s cheek. “Your freckles,” he kisses Dean gently, “Your eyes that are the color of the forest on a spring day,” he traces his finger down Dean’s arm, “The cut of your muscles, their strength a mirror of your inner emotional strength. You take what the world throws at you, process it, make adjustments, and then try and make the world better for everyone. Seriously, Dean, sometimes I am in awe of you.”

Dean stares at Cas, wondering how he can see that in Dean. Did he never see the self-pity, the loathing, and self-hatred, doesn’t he know how weak and pathetic he feels? Is this seriously what Cas sees? Dean can feel a wrinkle of confusion on his brow, and Cas reaches over and kisses him there to smooth it out. Dean can’t help but relax under his husband’s ministrations.

“Dean, I wish you could see yourself with my eyes.” And just for a moment, so does he.

The cracks and shards of Dean’s being shift and rearrange like a psychological Rubik’s cube, shuffling themselves into a new shape and design, not better nor worse, just different, and through it all Cas is there a solid presence holding him together through the bad times and celebrating the good ones. Dean looks at his husband and smiles, how did he get so lucky? Dean reaches over and pulls Cas into a kiss, soft and sweet, he takes pleasure in Cas’s surprised moan.

“I love you,” Dean admits, and Cas replies with a grin.

“I know.”

End


End file.
